Approaching Normal
by restive nature
Summary: At last they got the chance at a normal life that they thought they always wanted.
1. First Day Jitters

**Title: Approaching Normal**

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to BtVS or Supernatural. They are owned respectively by Whedon & Mutant Enemy and by Eric Kripke. No infringement is intended. This fiction is intended for private enjoyment only.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Crossover

Type: Friendship/ Romance

Pairing: Buffy/ Sam Winchester

Summary: At last they got the chance at a normal life that they thought they always wanted.

Spoilers/ Time line: Season 5 of Buffy (of sorts) and Pre Series for Supernatural.

Feedback: Always welcome!

Distribution: Ask first please.

A/N: This is written for the Jess? Who's Jess? challenge from the Twisting The Hellmouth site.

Chapter One

First Day Jitters

Buffy Summers glanced at herself in the mirror. She smoothed back the few tiny hairs that had escaped from the ponytail that she had put her hair up in that morning. Her make-up was flawless, and the outfit she had chosen was casual but chic. She grabbed up her sunglasses from the vanity table where she had chucked them yesterday when she got back to her dorm room.

She grinned at herself, once again relieved that she had gotten a room to herself this year. Last year had been a revolving door of nasty roommates. The first, Kathy the demon from another dimension had not even been the worst. Although Buffy still couldn't listen to Cher or Celine Dion without wanting to go a little postal. Mostly it had been the strain of trying to hide who she was from said roommates.

And who she was, was the Slayer. A Vampire Slayer to be more precise. And trying to keep that a secret had been one of the most difficult things she had done when she had first started college last year. But thankfully, slaying in Palo Alto, California was a lot more of a light load than it was in Sunnydale. For one, there was no Hellmouth in Palo Alto. That cut out almost seventy-five percent of the trouble right there. And so far, over the course of the previous college year, Buffy had mainly found a few stray Vampires working their way through the populace and the odd demon or two passing through.

Picking up her messenger bag, already stuffed with the paraphernalia she would need for her classes today, she shivered with the happiness thrumming through her. Stanford! Sometimes she still wanted to pinch herself that she had been accepted to such a prestigious school. She had taken her watcher's advice last year and tried out a variety of courses in her freshman year. She had done well in history, surprisingly and really well in the pop culture symbolism class. But what had really surprised her was how much she had enjoyed her psychology course. Thankfully, it was nothing like the one that Willow and Oz were enrolled in. Their psych teacher turning out to be a secret government agent bent on experimenting on the demon populace of Sunnydale was just weird.

Putting Maggie Walsh and the resulting mess that Buffy had helped clean up just a few months previously, out of her mind, she made sure she had her keys and her cash. A quick stop at the coffee kiosk a few blocks over and she would be ready for her first class of her sophomore year of college.

It wasn't really a surprise as she was heading down the stairs, when her cell phone chirped, letting her know that her mother was calling. Willow had spent a lot of time helping her download different tunes to assign to the special people in her life. That it was an old seventies tune that her mother had used to sing to her when she was little, bothered Buffy not one bit. Mostly because people didn't automatically recognize the tune. Pulling her cell phone out of her pocket and flipping it open with practiced ease, she didn't even break stride.

"Hey Mom," she greeted cheerfully. It didn't matter that she had just seen Joyce just yesterday when they had finished unpacking Buffy's dorm room. She knew her mother wouldn't be able to resist calling today.

"Hey sweetie," Joyce's voice was just as perky and excited sounding as Buffy herself felt. "Just wanted to call and wish you luck today."

"Thanks mom," Buffy chuckled. "But about the only trouble I'm thinking is going to happen today is if all the jittery, nervous freshmen clean out the coffee carts before I get there."

"Hopefully that will be all," Joyce agreed mildly. But then her attention was pulled away and her voice was muffled slightly and distorted, but Buffy still got the gist. "No Dawn honey, there's already an open box in the cupboard." A slight pause and then her mother continued. "Well honey, I really don't think you need to eat any more sugary cereal. I didn't buy any."

"Dawn looking for the crunchy goodness of the captain variety?" Buffy teasingly asked. She was well aware of her fourteen year old sister's predilections in the food area of her life.

"As usual," Joyce agreed with a long suffering sigh. "Oh, she wants to talk to you dear."

There was more muffling and then her sister's voice came on the line. "Can I borrow your blue sweater with the lace sleeves for school today? Please, please, please?"

"Dawn?" Buffy managed to keep her voice stern, even though she wanted to giggle. Straight to the whining with not even a greeting to her older sister. Dawn just wouldn't learn. "What did I say about the touching of the cashmere?" She heard the huff, loud and clear.

"That you would rip out my spinal cord and beat me over the head with it if I did," Dawn dutifully repeated.

"No Dawn, that's for the leather," Buffy teased. "Though still a good idea."

"But Buffy-!" her sister's rant was abruptly cut off by whatever their mother said and Buffy chuckled. There had to be a good reason for Dawn to want to borrow Buffy's clothes when said older sister wasn't there to pull it off under older sister's nose.

"What's the what Dawn?" she demanded, catching her sister's attention back to herself. "Why the need for the wardrobe change?" She was pretty sure it had to be something major, since Dawn had had her first day of school outfit picked out for two weeks. Something that she and Joyce had picked out on their back to school shopping spree. Buffy had missed it due to some slayage she was helping Giles and Faith with. But the outfit was cute. A jean skirt, of decent length, at least as decent as they could get on Dawn's coltish legs. Paired with a pink sweater, it was good.

"Ohmigod," the words ran together as her sister responded immediately to the query. "Janice just found out last night that Brian Masterson transferred to our school and he is sooooo cute Buffy. And if I have a class with him, I can't look like a baby. I need that sweater!"

"Uh huh," Buffy returned dryly. She well understood her sister's dilemma, even as she felt light years removed from it. Thank goodness she had gotten over that gawky phase a long time ago. But she knew, still, that this was important to Dawn, even if it wasn't to the universe at large. She thought quickly, how she could smooth this over. That cashmere sweater would not stand up to Dawn, the stain magnet. Which admittedly, was a better type of magnet than say, their friend Xander, who still attracted demon like flies to honey.

"Actually Dawn, I think that if you were really, and I mean really," she stressed, "careful with it, you could borrow my shiny blue shirt that is still in my closet upstairs." She rapidly reviewed the thought. Yes, it was pretty, yes, it would be mom approved as it covered the essentials, such as chest, shoulders and stomach and most importantly, it was dry cleanable. That was something she had discovered after a bad night at the Bronze.

"You mean the one with the white piping?" Dawn demanded, her excitement transmuting through the phone at a high pitch.

"That's the one," Buffy agreed. "But seriously Dawn."

"I know! I know!" Dawn hurried to say. "I spill something on it I die. I got it!"

"Well, I was gonna say that you have to pay for it to be dry cleaned first, but then, yeah, you die," she laughed.

"Ohmigod Buffy!" her sister squealed again and Buffy had to pull the phone away from her ear if she wanted to retain use of her ears. "You are the best. I love you!" The phone was dropped as Dawn was obviously going to change before her sister could change her mind.

"I take it that you handled that crisis?" Joyce's voice returned and Buffy continued on to the building that housed her first class. "She's been talking about this Brian boy since we got home last night. Honestly Buffy," her mother sighed. "I don't know if I'm ready to go through this again!"

After sharing a chuckle with her mother over the difficulties of normal teenage behavior, Buffy quickly informed her mother about what she was letting Dawn borrow, so that Dawn didn't try and pull one over on her mother. Then with another round of congratulations, still so proud, knock off their socks, they hung up. Which was just in time, when Buffy turned the corner to see a cup of coffee heading straight at her.

Just her luck that she would warn her sister, and then become a victim herself, she decided wryly.

Sam Winchester was having a bad morning. Not bad in the normal sense that his family would apply to the word. But still, not among his best days. Of course, receiving his acceptance letter to Stanford University and the scholarship that came with it was amazing. Disregarding all the crap that had fallen down around him following his decision to leave the family business to attend the prestigious school, he had been completely blown away by the experience so far. He had already checked out the campus in more ways than one. But since he had been concentrating on looking for anything out of the ordinary, which was not so surprising given the things he had faced in his life, he hadn't paid so much attention to where each building was situated in relation to his scholastic schedule. He realized now that he would have to learn quickly. His first class was starting in twenty minutes late and Sam just hated being late.

He had managed to find the coffee kiosk just outside the building that housed his dorm room by pure luck. He had ordered a grand, since he was sure that the excitement of actually being here would fade and he would need the caffeine once that wore off.

He glared around at the scene surrounding him. There were people everywhere and the babble of voices was overwhelming and that wasn't even counting the people with bullhorns shouting for attention. He had found himself following one voice that had sounded very commanding, only to find that it was a student rallying other students to the cause of the 'in danger of dying out' wolves. He shook his head over that.

He really needed to get a map. And even that wasn't as easy as he had thought it would be. He had approached a young lady, holding a sheaf of papers. But when he approached, she had automatically shoved one in his hand and he was disappointed to see that the bright blue sheet was an invitation to a party at one of the frat houses for Friday night. He had seen then that there were people all over with these bundles of papers. He had cautiously approached the next, pink for a rally on breast cancer awareness, a yellow one that was another party, with the offer of free jello shooters to all freshmen girls that attended. He was thinking of finding the nearest trash can to dump them in.

He had tried asking for directions as well, but apparently, the college crowd was jut as self involved as the rest of the world. Finally Sam decided that he might just have more luck with the lecturers than the lecturees and decided to stop in one of the classrooms and see if a professor could give him directions. But as he moved to turn the corner of the closest building, to get to the front door, only his quick reflexes kept him from dropping his coffee on the short blond that was moving at a quick clip around the corner from the opposite direction.

He didn't drop the coffee cup, but it did tilt alarmingly while the girl dashed to the side to avoid hot drops of coffee. "Sorry!" he gasped out quickly, reaching with his other hand to steady the cup and then swore softly as the straight black coffee burned the back of said hand. He shook the coffee off and quickly dried the back of his hand on his jeans. "I'm sorry about that. I was a little distracted." He made the apology softly even as he was sizing up this newcomer before him. Well, technically it was he that was the real newcomer.

The girl before him was short and blond, as he had noted before. Very much the quintessential California girl if he read her looks right, what with the tan and the outfit and the sunglasses perched on top of her head. She seemed to be carrying coffee as well, but she had it well in hand.

"First day on campus is usually disorienting," she offered with a knowing smirk. It wasn't a hateful smirk, more like she was smiling at a private joke. Which she probably was.

"Especially when you have no idea where you are supposed to be going," Sam sighed. He was extremely gratified when the smirk instantly faded into something akin to sympathy.

"Believe me," the blond chuckled, "I well remember that sensation. Freshman?" She asked gently and Sam nodded.

"And feeling way out of my depths here," he added. The blond chuckled, suddenly eying him from head to toe.

"Which would seem a little difficult," she offered a comment on his height. Sam had to grin at that. He had to top her by almost a foot, maybe more, seeing that she was wearing heels. "So where did you need to be?" she asked politely.

"Ah, I have class with Professor Lau in the Sanson building," he noted hopefully. Maybe she would just take pity on him and at least give him an idea where that was. But even better, she perked up immediately and gestured the way Sam had come from.

"That's where I was heading," she informed him and tilted her head to the side. It was a clear invitation for him to join her. "I have class with Professor Coleman."

"Thank goodness," Sam heaved a relieved sigh as he turned himself around and stole a quick sip of coffee. "I had this vision of wandering the campus all day, lost and alone."

"Didn't you get an orientation guide when you got here?" the blond asked, though her tone was still not at all accusatory, just curious.

"I did," Sam told her, wondering where she was leading with that.

"Well there should be a campus map in there," she told him. Sam stared at her for a moment, before coming to a dead stop and reaching for his backpack. The blond stopped as well and Sam hoped he wasn't going to make her late. He withdrew the book she had mentioned and started flipping through the pages. But to his relief, because the embarrassment would have been overwhelming, he wasn't finding the supposed map.

"I'm thinking maybe I got a misprint," he chuckled. The girl was looking in his book as well and suddenly stopped his hands, still flipping through the pages.

"Look," she pointed. "Looks like it might have been ripped out." Sam could see, now that she pointed it out, he could see where a bit of the paper was caught in the spiral bound pages. The girl quickly pulled her messenger type bag around and unzipped an outside pocket. She pulled out her own book. She flipped through two pages and there was the map that should have been in Sam's book as well. She pulled it out and offered it to him.

"Oh no, I-!"

"Don't worry," the blond offered dryly. "This is my second year here. I know the campus pretty well."

"Well then, thanks for the rescue," Sam grinned down at her. As one they started walking again as Sam tried to juggle the book with his cup of coffee. But the girl quickly took the hot cup from him and Sam flashed her another grateful smile as he tucked the orientation guide into his backpack, closed it up and readjusted it back over his shoulder. The map, he folded carefully and tucked into the front jean pocket. And then he was able to hold out his hand for his coffee, which the blond immediately handed over.

"So, you got a name for me to call you?" she asked in a perky manner as they continued walking. Sam noticed that he had shortened his stride by quite a wide margin. Wouldn't do to make her run to keep up with him, especially as he still didn't quite know where they were going. "Can't keep calling you new boy in my head."

"Name's Sam," he offered quickly. Her attitude this morning was very refreshing to him. Not a lot of people in his life were just plain happy to see him or be around him, aside from his brother that had been left behind in this quest for normal joe college life. "Sam Winchester."

"Buffy Summers," the blond, now named, held out her hand and Sam, grimaced, but still took her hand to shake.

"Sorry," he realized, once she had given him a raised brow and mocking, knowing, almost challenging look, how that must have appeared to her. "Is it, like, short for something?"

"It is," Buffy nodded. "Short for my mother must have been coming off the massive high of the seventies to pick that out."

Sam chuckled, especially as her voice had no rancor. She'd probably been fielding skeptical looks and jokes all her life. "You know," he grinned, a useless until know bit of trivia made it's presence known in his brain, "I think there was a pop singer in the seventies that went by the name of Buffy."

"Oh please let that be true," Buffy grunted out with a small laugh. "I would so hate to think that I was named after a star of a different sort."

"Oh?" Sam queried, not keeping up with her line of thought. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Buffy drawled, ducking her head as he bangs came down to partially covered what Sam was sure was a slight blush. "I've had more than one person ask if I was interested in being... a star."

It quickly dawned on Sam what she was referring to, not that he had intimate knowledge of what she was meaning. No, that purvue fell to his brother's tastes and it struck him suddenly funny how close that was to perv. "No, no," he shook his head. "I'm definitely thinking disco diva."

"Thank God," Buffy giggled. "Well, at least now I have some sort of answer."

"Didn't you ever ask your parents?" Sam asked and then grimaced. That was a little personal. But it seemed not to bother Buffy.

"Eh, by the time I got to an age to care, my parents were divorced and it didn't seem to top the list of questions," she explained with a flippant air, but Sam could just sense that there was more to the story. But he knew that he had already pushed her boundaries quite enough, especially for someone she had just met and was kindly helping out. "Of course, living in LA most of my life, wasn't quite the strangest name out there."

And just like that, they were back on a good footing. "I can only imagine," Sam chuckled. They had to pause in their walk as a large group of students went barreling by, carrying signs, bullhorns and all wearing the same god-awful shade of neon orange t-shirt. "Man," he sighed, as he watched the students progress past them. "Is first day always this...?"

"No Sam," Buffy grinned up at him and he found it infectious. "They created this mayhem just for you. You should feel special."

"Oh if that's the case, then I should fit right in, and yet somehow I don't," he quipped back. Buffy's grin widened and she glanced to her left before shifting to move forward again. Sam saw that she seemed to be cautious. Probably making sure there wasn't another herd of protesting elephants heading their way.

"Actually, my first day last year was pretty bad," she confided in him as he followed after her. "It was a lot like you see today," she continued. "All flyer-y and loud and I had forgotten to get my student ID, I was lost even with the map and a prime target for all of the senior boys to come to their keggers."

"That doesn't surprise me," Sam commented immediately on the last bit of information. He could see immediately why males of all sorts and ages would want to be around this lovely young woman.

"Yeah, except for the fact that me and beer are very non mixy things," Buffy snorted delicately. She gestured with her coffee cup to the right and Sam automatically switched directions. He had to smile at her manipulation of the verbs she was using. It was a unique process that he'd never heard an adult use before. She glanced up at him and he could see a delicate blush creeping over the apples of her cheeks. "Got drunk in high school, partying with a bunch of the frat boys and ended up being tied up in the basement with another two girls."

"What!" Sam felt his eyes grow large and was completely stupefied. He had heard rumors. Everyone heard rumors about scary things going on at college campuses. But to actually meet someone who had lived through something like that.

"Oh don't worry, that was back in Sunnydale," she continued. "Anyways, I had told my best friend, Willow, where I was going and she was terrible at keeping secrets and she ended up spilling everything to my other best friend, Xander, and our librarian, Giles, who was like a mentor to us and they raced in and saved the day." She concluded her story with a little nod as if she was very satisfied with the way things had turned out. But Sam wasn't as blasé about it. This was the kind of thing his family would be very freaked out about, if his father and Dean had even gone there when they had made obvious their discontent about Sam coming to Stanford. But he didn't really want to go there and kill the happy buzz that was filling his brain at finally having a normal life.

"So, I pretty much decided to stay away from the party scenes," Buffy explained. "Or at least go with responsible friends who would happen to notice if I disappeared." She chuckled then and shrugged one shoulder. "And so yeah, not much partying for Buffy."

"I'll take that idea under advisement," he grinned. "Although, I already knew that beer was bad." At her interested look, he quickly explained. "My older brother got me drunk when I was fifteen."

"Really?" it wasn't a question of surprise, but more amused, couldn't believe that a brother would do something like that. But Dean had.

"Uh yeah," Sam snickered. "Of course, he had also invited some girls he knew from school over and uh, well, I was uh..." Oh lord, how had he gotten on this track of the story.

"Let me guess," Buffy smirked. "He thought he was doing you a huge favor, setting you up with a "nice girl"" she made air quotes with the fingers on her free hand, "to uh, make a man out of you?"

"Pretty much," Sam agreed, his head bobbing quickly. "Unfortunately, the beer really didn't agree with me," he grimaced in remembrance. "I ended up throwing up on the girls, on my brother, myself and my father, it was not at all pleasant."

"Urgh," she laughed. "Yeah. Hopefully your brother was also responsible enough to teach you as many hangover remedies as he could. Or does he know them?"

"Ah, water, aspirin, more water," Sam nodded.

"And the big one," Buffy added. "Steak and fries."

"Steak and fries will cure a hangover?" Sam shook his head. That was a new one.

"No, steak and fries will help prevent a hangover," she instructed. "It just makes sense that if you're going out and planning to drink, eat a good meal that will soak up a lot of the alcohol in your system before you end up poisoning yourself. A good rare steak and thick fries works great for me."

"It does sound good," Sam agreed. He noticed that they had finally approached the building that they needed to be in. He surreptitiously checked his watch and found that they still had five minutes before class started.

"So, voila, the Sanson building," Buffy gestured, like she was a co-host on those televised game shows. "Home of many varied professors who like to make you think that you know nothing, because you actually know nothing that they think is worth knowing."

Sam blinked once as he processed that sentence and then chuckled. She was probably very correct in that. The professors probably wouldn't think too much of all the knowledge of things dark and supernatural in theme, if that was, they even believed in that.

"Well, thank you very much," he smiled widely down at the petite blond. "I really do appreciate the help."

"It was no problem whatsoever Sam," Buffy waved away his thanks. She looked like she was about to head in and for some unidentified reason that Sam didn't look too closely at, he didn't want to let her go just yet.

"So, uh, do you have any other advice for a lost freshman?" he asked quickly before she got more than a step away. Buffy turned where she was and regarded him with a look that was part serious, part amused and the rest curious.

"Yup," she nodded. "Tomorrow morning, go to the coffee kiosk on third and ask Brett how his cat is, you will thank me for it, the freshman fifteen really isn't a joke, so watch what you eat for the next few months and get a hobby."

Sam processed that quickly, but stuck at the last one. "A hobby?" he queried. Buffy nodded.

"Yup, college classes can be stressful," she explained quickly and without guile. "It's a good idea to have a fall back class that you don't need to be graded in, or a membership to a gym or a hobby that you can pick up whenever you need to to blow off steam."

"That sounds like really smart advice," Sam nodded. And it did make sense when she explained it like that.

"Stanford Sam," she chuckled. "There is a reason we're attending."

"Oh right," Sam grimaced again, realizing how condescending he must sound. True, she may be blond, perky and a Valley girl, but Stanford surely wasn't giving away spots in their school just based on looks.

"All right, I gotta get to class,' Buffy grinned and waved as she headed into the building. "See you around Sam."

"See ya Buffy," he responded quickly, waving as well. The door swung shut behind her and Sam realized that he should have gone in as well. He finished the last few sips of his coffee and tossed the cup in the convenient trash bin beside the front door. True, he didn't know the professor's policy about food and drinks in the classroom, so better to be safe than sorry.

As he pulled open the door and entered into this, the first of the hallowed halls of learning that he would be partaking in four days a week, Sam breathed out a huge sigh of relief. In spite of all the arguments and fights with his family, despite his nervousness at the new experience, despite everything, he had made the right choice. He just knew it.


	2. Open To Interpretation

**Title: Approaching Normal**

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to BtVS or Supernatural. They are owned respectively by Whedon & Mutant Enemy and by Eric Kripke. No infringement is intended. This fiction is intended for private enjoyment only.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Crossover

Type: Friendship/ Romance

Pairing: Buffy/ Sam Winchester

Summary: At last they got the chance at a normal life that they thought they always wanted.

Spoilers/ Time line: Season 5 of Buffy (of sorts) and Pre Series for Supernatural.

Feedback: Always welcome!

Distribution: Ask first please.

A/N: This is written for the Jess? Who's Jess? challenge from the Twisting The Hellmouth site.

Chapter Two

Open To Interpretation

Sam was finding much to his relief that college as it turned out, wasn't that different from high school for him. Well, there were some differences, such as the fact that he was actually able to stay put in one location and he knew that he would be seeing the same teachers and people day after day, or at least week after week, depending on the frequency of the courses that he had signed up for. But at least, in that circumstance, the one of his father moving his family from supernatural job to job and town to town, Sam had been able to get the whole gamut of teachers and their different moods and methods.

The other benefit was the ability to quickly memorize the material presented to him and a quick understanding of the deeper meaning. So he was finding that instead of being lost and floundering like he had feared he would, he was actually managing to float along in this new world. It did help that a very industrious student liaison officer had been great at corresponding with him before he had even arrived, offering sound advice at what courses to choose.

Sam hadn't gone into college having a preset notion at what he wanted to study. Just that he wanted to study, to make something of himself, to have some normal in his life. One of the pieces of advice that he had given Sam was remarkably similar to what Buffy had said his first day, to have an easy class to help take the pressure off. Sam's schedule was varied, but interesting to him so far. And as it turned out, he was now, this Thursday morning, headed to that very fall back, easy course that he had chosen. Introduction to Modern Art Appreciation. It was a general course, available at any level, so Sam thought it wouldn't just be newcomers.

He had to admit that he felt a little out of place, being a year or so behind the other students. He figured that most of them figured that he had taken a year off of high school or something like that. And it wasn't that bad. There had been a grandmother in his intro to computer programming class, yesterday. So maybe he was just being sensitive. After all, he might not feel like he fit in very well yet, but then, it being a new gamut for a lot of his classmates so far, at least he wasn't alone in that boat.

At least he had found that the possibility of making friends here was easier to contemplate. There weren't as many lies to be told, no excuses to be made why he couldn't go somewhere or do something or be involved in group activities. He could, to his heart's content. The only drawback and while it was something small, it was more major than Sam had realized, was the fact that his brother Dean wasn't here to share this with him. But every time he thought on that, Sam reassured himself that this was healthy. This was good for both himself and Dean. Brothers were not meant to live joined at the hip from birth to retirement community living. And if he had stayed, that's how it would have been.

If they'd made it that long.

Determinedly, Sam shook off the negative thoughts as he entered the classroom. He was happy to see that it was auditorium style seating instead of classroom. His long legs covering ground quickly, he hopped up the steps until he was about mid point and chose a seat in a currently empty row. Dropping his backpack to the floor, he busied himself retrieving a notebook and pen, noting once more that quite a fair number of students had laptops. That was something he should seriously consider buying, instead of just relying on the loaner he would be signing out next week for the computer programming course. Having retrieved the needed materials, he pushed the pack under the seats so that his classmates wouldn't trip over it. His legs had already caused that problem and embarrassment and he didn't want a repeat of that performance.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here," a feminine voice sounded from beside him. He knew that voice, Sam realized seconds after she spoke and his head came up quickly. He was grinning before he knew it and then realized belatedly because he had this sudden hope that the words were for him. And they were.

"Hey Buffy," he sat up straighter, noting that she was barely taller than he, even when he was seated. "Let me guess, this is your bird course?" he asked teasingly.

"Nah," she grunted softly, "kind of a mom inspired course. Mind if I sit with you?"

"No, of course not," he started, pleased that she hadn't taken offense at his teasing and the fact that she was sitting with him, especially when that task for some reason included her stepping over his legs to take an inside seat. He had leaned back to allow her room, but still, the spicy sweet scent of a vanilla based perfume wrapped itself around his head as she passed.

Giving himself a moment to gather himself and for Buffy to settle herself, Sam stared down at the professor, currently rifling through a stack of bound pages on his desk. And then it was that something caught at his brain and he was turning back to Buffy.

"A mom inspired course?" he asked, trying to decipher where that had come from. Buffy of course, looked up at him innocently not seeming to understand his puzzlement, until Sam once more glanced at their very masculine instructor. Unless there was something he didn't know. And then she giggled.

"Sorry," she huffed out. "Didn't mean to imply with the gender bending. No, my mom works at an art gallery in Sunnydale." She paused for a moment as Sam tried to place the name. He had heard it before. "It's a little town, north of LA, where we moved after my parents divorce. Anyway, when I was choosing my courses for this semester, my mom starting getting mushy over the courses she took in college."

"So you're taking it to please her?" Sam questioned, feeling slightly jealous. She was lucky she had someone in her life like that. It was an experience that he himself would never get to share in, not that he would be able to explain it to her, beyond the clipped 'my mother died in a house fire when I was a baby', that was the standard answer for those rude enough to inquire.

"Eh," Buffy hedged, shrugging the shoulder that was closest to him. "Well, she was talking about how she wished she could take a course like this to update herself on some new artists that are up and coming. But since the gallery is more geared towards natural history pieces, they wouldn't pay for the schooling. And since this course fit into my schedule, I figured I could check it out, see if it was worth Mom paying for something like this for herself." She sighed as she glanced around at the posters adorning the wall. "I don't know, I might end up dropping it."

Sam couldn't adequately describe why his stomach suddenly felt like it was dropping to his feet when she announced that.

"So art's not your thing then?" he asked of her cautiously. That he could understand. The stepping away of having to follow in your parent's footprints. Would actually advocate for if that was what she was feeling.

"Not really," she wrinkled her nose at him, which some part of Sam's very hormonally controlled brain informed him was adorable. Suddenly his stomach was back where it was supposed to be. "I actually like for my apples to be apples and people to look like people and for big squishy blobs to be just... blobby."

Sam laughed. There was the verbiage again. He quickly recovered himself as she looked askance at him. "Blobby," he grinned, explaining the point of humor for him. She nodded. "Is that a Californian thing or...?"

"Nope, mostly a Buffy thing," the blond nodded enthusiastically. "So is this the easy course you picked out or are you thinking about a career?"

"My liaison suggested a nice light course to offset everything else," Sam explained. "And I chose this because well, there are no wrong answers when it comes to art interpretation."

"Says you," Buffy snorted delicately. At that, Sam raised his eyebrows. "Sorry. Shipment of nude African statuary that was apparently very wrong for my sixteen year old eyes to see, according to my mother."

"Okay, I'll give you that," he rejoined speedily. "But how did you interpret it?" She took his teasing in the tone that he meant it.

"That African males are very short and squat yet think ver-ry highly of themselves," she shot right back.

Sam laughed again. "Well, who's to say they weren't exactly like that however many centuries ago that the statue was created," he pointed out with a small smirk on his lips.

"Huh," Buffy shook her head. "I wouldn't know. Of course, according to my friend Xander, National Geographic backs up my findings."

Xander? Sam felt a wariness. He had seen this before in his high school career too. Some girls seemed to collect guys around them in every shape, size and form, from friends to boyfriends, seeming to have very few females as confidants. But Sam knew he should reply to what she had just said, lest this beautiful young woman think something was wrong and withdraw from him. Sam was surprised to realize that even if he was interested in pursuing something with her and he wasn't quite sure if he was at that point in his life, he certainly wouldn't want to lose a friendship with her. She was truly interesting on a level that he could appreciate.

"Never read much National Geographic," he mused, knowing full well what the draw was for many hormonal teenagers.

"Let me guess," Buffy whispered conspiratorially. "Big brother to the rescue with a real porn stash."

Sam was slightly shocked, mostly because she had already figured out Dean's MO, but also because she remembered him mentioning Dean from the previous conversation. And a lot of shock because suddenly they were discussing something so... Yeah, Dean would be laughing his ass off at Sam right now, if he were here.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Sam muttered, almost a little darkly. But Buffy did laugh.

"Sorry," she apologized. "That was a little personal and not even the right person, huh?"

He waved away her concern with one hand. "You might want to save figuring out my brother's motivation in life until you've had a psych degree in hand for many decades," Sam mused. He gathered his brows together for a moment as he thought that through. "Actually, maybe it would work better if you went for abnormal psych. Then maybe Dean might make sense."

"Aha," Buffy giggled. "I gotcha. Younger sibling syndrome, and wow, try saying that three times fast."

Sam was saved from answering by a sudden flurry of activity around them as a few more students crept into their aisle and he had to move his legs again. Buffy was lucky that she only had to turn slightly sideways to make room. And just as the last rush of students entered the room, the professor glanced up at the clock and then pulled the door shut.

"Please everyone," he spoke loudly enough to be heard over the din, "go ahead and introduce yourselves to those around you. Until I get the chance to at least have some ideas of your names, I'll be asking you to keep to the seating you're in. Makes it easier for an old man."

There was laughter at that, since their professor looked to only be in his early forties at the latest. And then he was dividing the syllabi into thirds and handing them off to the people in the front with instructions to pass them back.

"Well good news," Buffy whispered to him, "I'm sensing humor here."

"That is a relief," Sam agreed.

"Now just as long as he doesn't expect us to just parrot his opinions on the art, we should be okay," Buffy nodded. Sam agreed again, since he had had teachers exactly like that.

They quieted again to take the syllabus handed back to them before sending the lighter load on. Sam noted that Buffy was writing her name and information on the inside cover and he quickly followed suit with his own.

"All right," Professor Clements continued, "rules of the classroom are the same as in the rest of the civilized world. For those of you that are dying to ask, I allow bottled drinks and hot drinks with lids, so make sure and file that request often with the kiosk guys. No gum, it's a distraction since you can't converse and chew cud at the same time." There were amused titters all around the class at that. "Besides, the janitors hate having to clean it off the seats and floors. Now, I am obliged to tell you that my office hours are from three to four every weekday, you can reach me on the phone then too and my email address is listed on page two. I do check it avidly and try to get back to serious questions as quickly as possible."

Sam noted the information exactly as was listed.

"Everyone should understand right now that while most people would consider this a bird course, I don't," Professor Clements seemed to grow serious. "Grades will be based on classroom interaction during group discussions, papers assigned, midterm and end of term projects. This is not going to be a class where we look at a painting and then all stand back rubbing our chins and saying hmmm."

Sam smiled widely. This was actually starting to appeal more to him than the last thought the instructor had offered. He chanced a glance at Buffy, beside him to see how she was responding to this, but noted that she was watching the professor in all seriousness, looking quite serene. But then, she was used to this already, having studied here the previous year.

"I want your opinions people," Clements continued. "And don't worry about sounding like a freaking critic for the Times. We're here to appreciate and if you don't, then say so. But you know, politely."

Sam did catch the grin on Buffy's face as she ducked her head for a moment. Her eyes slid sideways to him and Sam felt the infectious nature of that grin transmute itself to him.

"All right," Clements loud voice caught everyone's attention again as he moved to the white board and reached up to pull down a projection screen. "Everyone turn to page five for a quick overview of the artists and relevant material we will be going over this quarter." He withdrew a remote from his pocket and aimed it towards the back of the room. "In case anyone actually feels like studying outside the classroom." That gentle jibe caused more laughter and then silence, for the most part, settled over the class as Clements began introducing them to the collective modern artists, which Sam found to mean any artist creating notable offerings within the last hundred years.

He found it easy enough to be following along with. The professor was breaking down the work to sculpture, paintings and also photography, noting that Annie Leibowitz was a force to be reckoned with. The only thing that worried him was the teacher's assertion that it would be important for the students to understand the pop culture surrounding the era of the art they were to study. That wasn't a strong suit for him. General history yes, but he'd never had the chance or the inclination to immerse himself in fads and trends growing up. He put aside that worry. There were plenty of websites that would be dedicated to this information and he knew well how to put the library to use.

Soon enough the class was winding down. Clements informed the class that their next meeting the following week, they would get into the paintings he had lined up and it would be good idea to do the recommended reading listed. Sam fully intended to.

"So what did you think?" he asked of Buffy as she straightened up in her seat, putting away her notebook, syllabus and pen in her backpack.

"I think that I could definitely get on board with his teaching style," Buffy answered easily. "I've been told I have a very vocal learning style."

"You were just itching to make fun of it, weren't you?" Sam teased but was surprised when she leveled him a knowing look.

"Like you weren't?" she teased right back. "I mean honestly, Blobby McBlobberson with the French titles. I took two years in high school and I still don't get it."

Sam was surprised that he got what she was saying immediately. He had trouble himself trying to decipher the French titles assigned to those amorphous paintings of color swirls. "Like that one, _The Curtain Veiled_?"

"Is that what it was?" Buffy chuckled. "I got curtain, but I thought it was the curtain's curtain and why does a curtain need a curtain? Is it hiding from something?" Sam chuckled with her. It was almost scary how much he was enjoying himself with her. But then she suddenly went pensive and he froze, wondering where her mind had wandered to now. "Or maybe that's it exactly. Curtains hanging on the window, all of life going by, everything peachy keen. But what about inside? What's going on in the house that it has to hide or that it's hiding from?"

Sam blinked. Several times.

"Wow," the corner of his mouth turned up. "You might be better at this class than you think."

"I'd better write that down so I don't forget it then," Buffy nodded importantly, though Sam was sure that he cold see a glimmer of something in her eyes. "Seeing how blobby's not going to be until next month."

"Definitely a smart idea," Sam agreed.

"But yeah," Buffy continued, "the class seems to be all right."

Was it Sam's imagination or was she suddenly eying him with interest. No, no mistake as her eyes roamed over him.

"It definitely has it's perks," she grinned widely. And then she turned away. Giving Sam a chance to exhale the breath he had been holding. That was flirting. She had definitely been flirting with him. But just as his mind was wrapping itself around that fact, he noticed that she was speaking again.

"...have to adopt a wait and see attitude about it," she finished. Sam hurriedly tried to look as if he had been paying attention to the whole sentence. But what was she talking about, him, the class, something else entirely?

The class, surely that was what it was, he assured himself. Of course, the quickest way to figure that out would be to ask her out, but then, if she had been hinting that she wanted to take things slow otherwise, wouldn't he look like a complete ass for disregarding that?

He would.

But he was saved from the embarrassment as Buffy glanced at her watch and stood. Sam, realizing that she needed to get out of the row of seating, stood as well, his bag in hand. He moved the few steps to the aisle and then aside as Buffy drew on her messenger bag.

"Can't be late for my next class," she explained, though she certainly didn't owe him one.

It was nice to know though, that she wasn't just taking off for no reason or that he had done something to spook her. He did think to offer to walk her, but her next words put an end to that.

"It starts in like half an hour on the other side of campus," she explained as she moved down the steps. Sam followed after her. "I timed it and I really have to hurry to make it on time from here."

"Oh okay," Sam nodded. That was a very reasonable explanation. Of course, not everyone had a mile eating stride like he did at times. Not that there was anything wrong with Buffy's legs. From Sam's point of view they were very nice indeed.

"So, see you around Sam," she called as she departed from the room, pausing at the door to give him a quick wave.

"Bye Buffy," he called back, even though she was out the door. _'So much for asking her out to coffee,'_ he sighed to himself. It wasn't until he was nearly to the library to start checking out popular culture references that Buffy certainly had to give him an unasked for explanation of where she was in a rush to go. That maybe, just maybe she had seen the interest from Sam and was reciprocating, but didn't want him to feel as if she were blowing him off.

That thought alone was enough to keep a spring in his steps for the rest of the day. After all, he was guaranteed to see her at least once a week. He could only hope that luck would bring him more.


	3. Fenced In

**Title: Approaching Normal**

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to BtVS or Supernatural. They are owned respectively by Whedon & Mutant Enemy and by Eric Kripke. No infringement is intended. This fiction is intended for private enjoyment only.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Crossover

Type: Friendship/ Romance

Pairing: Buffy/ Sam Winchester

Summary: At last they got the chance at a normal life that they thought they always wanted.

Spoilers/ Time line: Season 5 of Buffy (of sorts) and Pre Series for Supernatural.

Feedback: Always welcome!

Distribution: Ask first please.

A/N: This is written for the Jess? Who's Jess? challenge from the Twisting The Hellmouth site.

Chapter Three

Fenced In

By the time that Friday night finally rolled around, Sam found that he was exhausted, but in a very pleasant, unusual way. For so long, hunting constantly, or at least being dragged around after his father and brother going to a hunt, Sam had developed an alertness, a tension that he couldn't easily settle down. And yet here, knowing that he had a safe place to go, as safe as the dorm rooms were, and the knowledge that he'd be here next week and the week after that, had allowed him to slightly lower all the defenses that he had developed over the years.

But at the same time, that constant influx of adrenaline into his system was no longer present and he found that he couldn't keep up the same level of activity that he had been used to before. Thinking on it, he found that maybe he was more sedentary than he had thought. Or maybe more easy going than previous circumstances had allowed for. So he was relaxing, but this wasn't the time for it. First year of college wasn't supposed to be mellow yet. He had classes to get to, research to do, because the professors were all for throwing the students right into the work and expecting results immediately, plus the mixers and the parties.

But as tired as he was, Sam was loving it. There just wasn't words enough to sort through the emotions he experienced this last week. So he just let it go. Just let himself enjoy the moment and pushed aside the occasional twinge of guilt that he still felt at having left his brother behind. He didn't have that same regret about leaving his father to his vendetta. That was a whole can of worms that he didn't want to touch with a twenty foot pole.

But there was something from his former life that was coming in handy at college that Sam had never thought of. Something he was not quite grateful for, but recognized the usefulness of. Scamming.

And not running pool scams like his brother had, or credit card fraud which was their mainstay way of affording food, gas and motels. It was a much longer known manipulativeness that Dean had Sam doing since he was a little boy. Nope, this time around it was the food scam. Dean had always used Sam to get a little extra out of people, citing that no one could resist Sam's little face, especially as he was wont to look embarrassed over his older brother's ministrations. People usually misconstrued it as something else. But to Sam's utter relief he had seen many students around him, mostly the older ones that frequented the campus cafeteria, employing it to certain varying degrees of success. When his own roommate had returned to the dorm to stash things around his side of the room, Sam had been amused. But it made sense. Using the meal card once a day instead of three times a day ensured the longevity of the cards use and there was no restrictions on how much food was taken to eat, once the students were through the entrance line. In fact, Sam was pretty sure that the administration knew exactly what was going on and turned a mostly blind eye to the practice. With that thought in mind, he'd engaged in a little food hiding himself.

But dinner was a different matter. Sam had learned that the best meals to get were the hot ones that were filling and varied. Breakfast cereals and rolls could last all day or be saved for the next. Certain fruits were also good as well. But the hot meals didn't travel well back to the dorms, so Sam made sure and loaded up every night. But he had quickly realized that this was how that freshmen fifteen made itself known. Packing on all those calories and then returning back to his room for studying or going partying where there was beer and snacks and what passed for dancing.

So it was that and just a feeling that he needed something more physical to do than walking back and forth to classes and the library, that had Sam prowling the notice board just inside the cafeteria. These boards were all over really, but in an effort to keep the campus trees and light poles from being plastered with these notices, the school had put up cork boards in numerous public locales.

Sam returned general greetings from some of the people he recognized from various classes and once at the cork board, started looking over the brightly hued papers in an effort to find a club that he just might enjoy. They seemed to run the gamut from study groups, which might interest him down the road, to book clubs, music clubs, coffee clubs and even a knitting club. He scoffed lightly to himself. If he even entertained the thought of that and if Dean ever got wind of that and he'd never live it down.

With a sigh, Sam turned away from the message board, feeling slightly annoyed. He knew there had to be more than just clubs and rallies going on here. Maybe he could stop by the library and look up a gym or something in the immediate area. But as soon as the mood hit, it lightened again as a very familiar blond head of hair was spotted, right in his path.

Of course, Buffy had her head down and seemed to be concentrating on making it through the spate of last minute diners, since the cafeteria would be closing in about fifteen minutes. Sam would have stepped aside and called her name to catch her attention, but found himself blocked in by some females in a group. So it was either stay in Buffy's way or bump into a much larger group of females. And regardless of what else his father had taught him over the years, Sam had held on to the manners. Because those were actually useful to have in the outside world.

"Hey there," he called out just moments before she would have collided with him. He was absurdly pleased when her head came up and the exact moment she realized who she had almost plowed into registered with her and a huge grin lit up her face.

"Sam! Hey!" she returned enthusiastically and then gestured around. "Thought I could make it out of here before the last minute crush. Guess I was fooling myself."

"You've already eaten?" Sam clarified, trying to dismiss the slight sinking feeling he had anytime she was around and about to leave. He knew rationally that she was on her way out, but he had been hoping that just maybe she'd been chatting with a friend or classmate or something before joining the line to get food.

"Yeah," Buffy nodded. "The lasagna was good, but I think they're out. I'm kinda iffy with the meatloaf and mashed potatoes."

"I don't mind meatloaf and mashed potatoes," he shrugged. It wasn't like they had a lot of choice growing up and sometimes the school lunch was the only hot meal they got in a day, if Dad was on a hunt and Dean was running low on funds.

"Eh," Buffy grimaced. "Bad high school experience."

"What could be so bad about cafeteria mashed potatoes?" Sam wondered aloud, unless she just didn't like reconstituted potatoes.

"It wasn't so much the food as who was preparing it," Buffy sighed and shook her head. At Sam's quizzical look, she leaned forward and spoke quietly. "We had a cafeteria worker who kinda went nuts and she ended up putting rat poison in the mashed potatoes."

Sam's eyes went wide. She couldn't be serious, could she? But then Buffy grinned.

"Don't worry, my friend Xander saw her doing it and kept everyone from eating," she explained airily. "From the way it sounded, the lady was just depressed that the school wasn't utilizing her skills and decided that if we were going to act like vermin, then we would be treated like vermin."

Sam frowned. "That sounds... really..."

"Like a complete psycho," Buffy giggled, "which she was. But I'm sure the potatoes here are just fine." Her words ended on a completely serious note and her eyes were wide and innocent and Sam almost believed the pose for a second. Only a second because behind the innocence was humor.

"Uh, I think I'll just stick with a salad then, just in case," he decided, thinking as well that it was probably an isolated incident. He'd never heard of anything like that before and if school cafeteria workers were an epidemic it would have heard about it from one source or another.

"So, I could see how almost eating poison would put you off a food," he continued quickly, hoping that she wasn't in too much of a hurry.

"Actually," Buffy grinned, "I wasn't in the cafeteria right then. I was umm," she frowned, looking deep in thought, her eyes shifting to the side and Sam realized at one that she was trying to figure out how to hide the truth. He'd done it enough himself and seen his father and brother in action to recognize the telling signs. He was wondering if he should let her off the hook, but she was the one that had brought it up. "Well, to tell the truth, I was up in the tower with another student."

"Oh," Sam could feel his eyes growing wide as he took in the implication of that. One, judging by Buffy's instant, mortified blush, that was apparently wrong.

"Oh no, not like that," she chuckled, shaking her head a brief moment. "See, there was a letter written to the school paper and I saw Jonathon up in the tower with a high powered rifle and well conclusions and the jumping of," she trailed off, shrugging one shoulder.

"Seriously?" Sam gaped. This kind of situation was one that he was kind of intimately familiar with, at least years if not decades after the fact.

"Well, we kind of read the letter wrong," Buffy explained quietly. "We took it for a 'you're all gonna pay for treating me like this' letter, when in actuality, it was a last desperate cry for help. Jonathon went up there to kill himself."

"And you went up there with him?" Sam questioned softly. His admiration for her just sky-rocketed. Buffy shrugged again.

"I thought he was gonna... so yeah," she murmured, glancing down at her feet. "Turns out, he was in pain, just like every other teenager in America. He just didn't realize that everybody was so busy ignoring his pain because they were too engrossed in their own."

Sam blinked several times. He'd never really considered that. It was something that succinctly explained why ghosts existed, so many of them teens and young adults at their time of death. Anger and pain didn't just go away when you died, regardless of what people thought. He finally asked, "did you manage to get through to him?"

"I did," she grinned at that and Sam was grinning with her. "He got some serious counseling and made it back in time for prom."

"That's good to hear," Sam sighed happily. A happy ending that could have turned out much differently. Sam noticed then that others were swirling around where they were standing, the line for dinner progressing at a good clip. Of course, Buffy seemed to notice as well.

"Sheesh, here I am chattering on, keeping you from your dinner," she shifted on her feet and one hand came up to brush his arm. "I'll let you get going, since," she turned her arm, glancing at her watch, "I have just enough time to stop off at my dorm." The last words were muttered and Sam didn't quite have the courage of his brother to ask what her plans were. He simply grinned and let her go, knowing that he would see her again, even if it wasn't as soon as he would like.

"Yeah," he nodded as she stepped to the side. "I'll catch you later."

"Bye Sam," she called over her shoulder as she exited out the doors. Sam watched her for just a moment before a nudge called him back and he realized he needed to join the line or go home. But he found, despite Buffy's words, he ended up avoiding the mashed potatoes, just in case.

Sam was hurrying back to his dorm, his dinner feeling slightly like a lead weight in his middle. Normally he wasn't one to eat and run because he ended up feeling precisely like this. But after having grabbed his dinner, he'd found some class mates to sit with and in the course of the conversation, he had found out that a fencing club was meeting for the first time that night. While not normally his usual bag of tricks, it had sounded interesting and the encouragement of Brad, the one who'd mentioned it, was welcome. Brad had suggested that Sam grab some work out clothes, or at least loose sweats and a t-shirt to change into for the class. So Sam was on his way back to his dorm room to do so. He had estimated, given the address of the where the club was meeting, that he'd have just enough time to avoid being late and disrupting the meeting.

Luckily he had everything organized the way he liked it, no longer having to put up with his brother's slovenly ways, or living out of a duffel bag any more. Sam stuffed his change of clothes into a small bag, threw it over his shoulder and exited his dorm room in under three minutes. Taking a moment to orient himself, he then headed down the street, his long stride eating up the distance quickly.

Unfortunately, the fates seemed to have something else in mind for him as he heard the distinct sounds of an altercation coming from a nearby alley. Reassuring himself that it was probably not the kind of fight he was used to, but probably just some drunk frat boys blowing off some steam, or possibly worse, maybe a robbery in progress, Sam still retained his presence of mind to approach cautiously, hoping the whole while that it was two animals fighting over scraps from a trash bin. But what he saw made his heart stutter.

Caution mostly forgotten, he charged into the alley, intent on what he'd been taught from the youngest of ages. Protect the weak and the innocent. "Buffy!" he yelled, hoping to get both her and the creeps attention. It worked as the darkly looming figure's head snapped up from where the guy was advancing on her. Buffy half turned as well, though she seemed more puzzled than worried.

"Sam?" she called back, but then seemed to remember what was coming at her and shifted, Sam was glad to see, defensively. He was still a little too far away to hear what the guy said to her, but then, with an unimpressive swirl, the guy had whirled around and taken off at a fast clip further into the alley. And was he seriously wearing a cape? He reached Buffy, who was staring after the creep, her entire face thoughtful.

"Buffy?" Sam reached out and gently shook her shoulder until she looked up at him. "Are you okay? Did you know that guy?"

She was silent for a moment, turning her head back to where the stranger had disappeared. Then she sighed. "Never saw him before in my life."


	4. Judging A Dustcover

**Title: Approaching Normal**

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to BtVS or Supernatural. They are owned respectively by Whedon & Mutant Enemy and by Eric Kripke. No infringement is intended. This fiction is intended for private enjoyment only.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Crossover

Type: Friendship/ Romance

Pairing: Buffy/ Sam Winchester

Summary: At last they got the chance at a normal life that they thought they always wanted.

Spoilers/ Time line: Season 5 of Buffy (of sorts) and Pre Series for Supernatural.

Feedback: Always welcome!

Distribution: Ask first please.

A/N: This is written for the Jess? Who's Jess? challenge from the Twisting The Hellmouth site.

Chapter Four

Judging A Dustcover

Sam stared down the alleyway where the dark haired, cape wearing would be assailant had fled when he'd entered the scene. He couldn't see anything in the shadows, which was probably the effect the guy had been after, especially if he made this a habit. He turned back to the petite blond who seem only slightly disturbed by the entire episode.

"Are you okay?" he asked hesitantly, cataloging her slightly glazed over eyes. It took her a moment and he was about to ask again when her eyes snapped up to him and she smiled.

"I'm just fine Sam," she assured him and then turned and stuffed something she had clenched in her hand back into her ever present message bag. Sam hadn't even noticed that she'd had something, though he did recall the sounds of what seemed to be a fight and he wondered if Buffy was adept at protecting herself. He hoped she was, something that young women should be mindful of. "That guy was just some random creep. No matter where you go, there's always one, you know?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded and continued to look Buffy over. She seemed to be fine and he couldn't see where she might have been hurt or manhandled. "Do you think we should call the cops?" he asked, his brow furrowing, trying to remember what the normal course of action would be. Had it been his father or brother, they'd be running pell mell after the assailant. But that was his old life. In this new one, it was the cops that handled those things.

To his surprise, Buffy started sniggering. He eyed her cautiously, wondering then if she might have received a blow to the head. That wouldn't have been so obvious to a casual glance and he was wondering how he might approach that problem when she gestured back into the alley.

"He was pretty harmless, I think," she announced. Sam couldn't help responding to her wide grin.

"You really aren't that upset about being cornered in an alley, are you?" he asked with a mix of unease and admiration. She shrugged and began to move out towards the street.

"Oh, remember that mentor of mine, Giles?" she asked. Sam tried to recall and then remembered what she had said the first day they'd met, about how the man had been their high school librarian. He nodded. "He taught me several forms of martial arts, after school and on weekends. And my mother ensured that I was fully equipped with a lifetime supply of pepper spray when I first moved here." She patted her bag at her side and Sam realized that that must have been what she had put away. He felt warm inside to realize that it must have meant that she was comfortable with him. That she was telling him her secrets, rather than keeping them quiet in case she felt she needed them.

"Well, I'm glad about that," Sam sighed. "Of course, he could have had a weapon, or something, so..."

"Oh but he did," Buffy chuckled again. And Sam eyed her with alarm. But Buffy was too full of humor and he was helpless against the mirth in her eyes. "His fangs, you know?" she giggled, but all of a sudden, it sounded just a little forced to Sam's ear.

"His fangs?" Sam repeated, trying to run through his mind what sort of creature had fangs and wore capes. Well, there was the obvious, vampires of course. But Dad had said they were extinct.

"Yes Sam," Buffy intoned as they walked together towards the lit street. "I just had the distinct honor of being addressed by Dracula himself." Sam stopped dead in his tracks, shaking his head suddenly as if his ears were full of water. Her laughing tone was very evident now and suddenly Sam realized the situation for what it was.

"Seriously? Dracula?" He jerked his thumb back, over his shoulder. "He really thought...?" Buffy, her lips pressed together to repress a giggle, nodded. "Oh man," Sam laughed as well and then sighed. "Oh the insanity," he chuckled.

"I know," Buffy joined in, adjusting the strap of her bag slightly. "Back in Sunnydale, this vampire role playing game was really popular. Like to a factor of a billion over the rest of the country. Kind of semi-small townish vibe, so people had to make their own entertainment."

"Uh huh," Sam murmured, enjoying listening to her now that the major threat of danger was past. He was very intimately familiar with those very small towns she was describing.

"Well anyway, I can't count how many times my friends and I would be out and about or coming home from the Bronze," she glanced up at him and then quickly explained, "local club. My friend Willow's boyfriend was in a band that played there." Sam nodded again and made an encouraging noise in the back of his throat. Maybe the Xander that she had mentioned was Willow's boyfriend? "Anyway, I can't even count the number of times we would stumble over some pimply, overweight kid proclaiming that he was Lestat or something stupid like that."

"Was it always the same kid?" Sam asked with a grin. Buffy just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Looks like the insanity has spread," she finally did murmur, with one last glance back at the alleyway.

"Oh I know it has," Sam rejoined, remembering an incident from a few years previous that was safe enough to share.

"Oh?" she asked, turning out of the alleyway and Sam, glancing up at the street signs, saw that whatever course she was on was at least in the same direction as his currently was.

"Yeah, couple years ago, my dad and brother and I were out camping. We were hiking around," he explained, "and my brother fell over what we thought at first, was a dead body."

"Uh oh," Buffy gasped, though she didn't seem to be jumping to conclusions, which Dean certainly had. His older brother had been convinced that they'd found a victim of whatever they'd been hunting.

"Yup," Sam agreed. "Turns out though that it was just some guy from the SCA, participating in a role playing event. He was a mage elf ranger, I don't know, Legolas wannabe," Sam chuckled. "Anyway, he'd just been slain and yelled at us for disrupting the play."

"Oh lord," Buffy giggled, one hand covering her mouth as they continued walking. "Just one question?"

"What's that?"

"Well actually, plenty of questions," she clarified, still mirthful, "but hopefully being fairly sane, I doubt we have the answers. But what's the SCA?"

"Oh sorry," Sam felt a little stupid, realizing that not everyone would be familiar with the acronym. He hadn't been until he had looked it up. "It's the Society for Creative Anachronisms. Apparently it's this huge group that like medieval type things. They have fairs, groups, do role playing, all sorts of stuff. I guess some of them really get into it."

Buffy seemed to consider that and then shrugged. "Well, sounds like an interesting hobby to have. Though I just couldn't see getting so into it. That seems a little too escapey of the life stuff, if you know what I mean."

Sam processed that for a moment before agreeing. "Yeah, I guess I could see that. I mean, escaping the stress in your life once in a while isn't a bad thing, right?" Buffy nodded, though she was biting at her lip. "But you're right. I can't see immersing yourself so totally, like real life doesn't exist." He felt a niggle of guilt right then, even as he said it. Wasn't that exactly what he was doing now?

No, he assured himself. He wasn't ignoring his old life. He was just moving on in the larger world. The one they all had to live in. Yes, demons and spirits and bad things existed. But that didn't mean they were the only thing. Living that life and nothing else? That had been unhealthy. Sam was sure of that.

"You know, I sometimes wonder what makes people want to disappear, to get lost," Buffy offered quietly. Then she smiled up at him as he watched her, looking a little self-deprecating. "I guess that's why I declared psych as my major."

"Probably a good place to start if you have questions like those," he nodded. "So, were you headed any place specific?"

"I was," Buffy nodded. She swept one arm ahead of them. "It's just down the street."

"Oh cool," Sam nodded enthusiastically. "I'm heading this way too. Mind if I walk with you? I mean, you've got your pepper spray, but it certainly can't hold that stimulating a conversation, can it?"

"If it did, what on earth would it have to talk about?" Buffy asked, giggling just a little, but she didn't deny him the pleasure of continuing with her. "The benefits of it over mace?"

"Or maybe the chemical composition of said aerosol deterrents?" Sam quipped back and again she made the adorable wrinkly nosed face.

"Ugh, chemistry," Buffy groaned and then grinned at him. "Math makes Buffy brain hurt!"

Sam roared with laughter and then tried to contain himself, darting worried eyes at her. He hoped that she knew he wasn't laughing at her, per se, but she looked quite pleased.

"Sorry," he offered, "you just reminded me... of my brother," which wasn't a total lie. Dean didn't like advanced math either. "Not that you're like my brother, just..." he quickly backpedaled, realizing that it wasn't actually that much of a compliment to a woman.

"I highly doubt that," Buffy smirked, as if she knew exactly what he was up to. "For one, I doubt your brother can pull off red leather pants like I can."

Sam's eyes widened at that implication and he tried valiantly not to drop his eyes to her lower form. He already knew how shapely her legs were, from the various outfits that he'd seen her in. "No, I can't uh," he managed to choke out. "Dean in red leather?" he winced. "Now there's a very bad image."

"Usually is," Buffy teased. "Especially if he's pimply, overweight, wearing a purple cape and calling himself Vlad."

Sam smiled again and shook his head, noticing that she had slowed to a stop and was glancing up at the community center building and Sam realized that this was were he had been heading as well. Maybe she...? But no, he shouldn't get his hopes up about that.

"Well, this is me," Buffy explained, gesturing to the building and climbing up the first step, which still didn't even put her on even footing with Sam. He moved after her and she narrowed her eyes, though she didn't look upset. She simply turned and led the way up the steps and opening the door, let him take it to hold open and then turned back again. "kay, all safe and sound inside."

"We are," Sam agreed and when she looked confused again, he chuckled. "I was on my way here to check out a club that's meeting here tonight." He was relieved when her face cleared instantly and she looked pleased.

"Took my advice, huh?" she decided. "The fencing club?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed and then realized why she must have been aware of it. "You?"

There must have been something in his tone, even knowing that she had taken self-defense courses, because she pursed her lips.

"Shouldn't really judge a dustcover by the funky art," she warned playfully. "Might not find the correct interpretation," she teased, reminding him of their shared art class.

"I'll watch out for that," he assured her and with that cleared up, followed her into the room that declared itself the meeting area for the fencing club. Not recognizing anyone aside from Buffy, he followed after her as she chose a place on the floor and again felt that special warm sensation flooding his chest when she smiled up at him and patted the floor beside her. As he dropped down into a cross legged position, he decided that even if fencing wasn't his thing, Buffy Summers might very well be.


	5. Count Famous

**Title: Approaching Normal**

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to BtVS or Supernatural. They are owned respectively by Whedon & Mutant Enemy and by Eric Kripke. No infringement is intended. This fiction is intended for private enjoyment only.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Crossover

Type: Friendship/ Romance

Pairing: Buffy/ Sam Winchester

Summary: At last they got the chance at a normal life that they thought they always wanted.

Spoilers/ Time line: Season 5 of Buffy (of sorts) and Pre Series for Supernatural.

Feedback: Always welcome!

Distribution: Ask first please.

A/N: This is written for the Jess? Who's Jess? challenge from the Twisting The Hellmouth site.

Chapter Five

Count Famous

The end of the first meeting of the fencing club could not come soon enough for Buffy. She'd been on a sort of nervous tension vein since before she had arrived and her mind was whirling with thoughts of the bad kind ever since she had given into the Slayerly urge to check out the noise in the alleyway.

To think, that Dracula, the real Dracula had come looking for her! It was enough to make a girl's head spin. Or maybe not a normal girl, but when had that ever really been her life since she had been called to this gig? But it was like a super famous actor or something, seeking out a drama major and enthusing over their part in a two bit high school production. Or at least something like that, she had decided.

Of course, the feeling of flattery had ended, the very moment that she had sensed someone else in the vicinity. And then it was business as usual. Protect the innocent. But Dracula had seemed to be in the agreement that no one else needed to interfere, and hopefully not die that evening. As Buffy heard Sam calling her name, Dracula had whispered his parting line and with a flurry of his purple cape, had departed. She'd been able to track his flight, and flight it was, when he'd turned into a freaking bat! She could only surmise that some of the legends were more true than she had supposed. She had resolved to ask Giles about it until Sam had distracted her. And then she remembered the part she hated about having gone back to secret identity gal.

Luckily, she had been able to come up with, due in large part to her conversation with Drac, the alibi about the creep role playing. Even better, though skeptical about the mental health of the gamer in question, Sam had fully bought into the story, even sharing a similar experience and wasn't that a hoot? But even as they continued on to the meeting, Buffy hadn't realized that Sam was more than just being a gentleman, another novelty in her world, because she was working too hard to get through the implications of what was happening now.

Throughout the meeting, she was able to pretend absorption in the instructor's welcome and discussion about the club. She figured that she could get the logistics of meeting times and places later, since she did catch that they'd post the meeting times in common areas and also that they had an emailer that they sent out to those that signed up. She resolved to do that, since she really enjoyed clubs that offered some physical activity as an outlet when she wasn't on a slay heavy schedule. She had caught mention when those that needed to, were invited to change in the community centers bathrooms. There were a small number that did, Buffy and Sam among them.

Upon the recommencing of the class, they'd moved into learning some basic Katas that would help them before picking up an actual sword. And since they were all in formation to learn the forms, Buffy didn't have to worry about going one on one with an opponent and trying to gage her strength so an ordinary person didn't get hurt. The forms were so familiar and soothing to her that she moved through them, in a trance like state. So while that was good for her, it also meant that she totally missed the appreciative eyes and some jealous ones roaming over her as she moved through the motions. And at last, when the instructor had congratulated them all on a good first meeting, Buffy had developed a plan that she could put into action almost immediately. Like a good little Slayer, she would call her Watcher.

"That was amazing," Sam enthused from beside her. Buffy glanced up, a little startled. She had sat with him while the instructor had talked, but when they took up positions around the room, she hadn't even noticed that he had stuck with her.

"It was a good workout," she agreed with a grin. There was just the lightest sheen of perspiration on Sam's cheeks and checking herself, Buffy could feel one small trickle trying to make it's way down her hairline, tickling at that little spot in front of her ear. As people milled around them, Buffy glanced around for her bag and started moving to it, to retrieve the towel that she had brought with her. Sam followed, as of course, his bag was stowed with hers.

"Yes, but I was actually referring to you," Sam chuckled. "Have you done this before?" he asked with interest. Buffy was slightly caught off guard, but then realized that she had already told Sam about her interest in self defense. She shrugged as she squatted down to open her bag.

"A... friend of mine," she winced soundlessly, referring to Angel as such, but it was a subject she really didn't want to get into, "back in high school, got me into tai chi. I found it very relaxing and continued with it. I do the Katas every morning, sometimes at night before bed."

"It shows," Sam grinned as he knelt to retrieve his own towel to mop at his face before wrapping it around the back of his neck. "You were more graceful than the instructor. Looked very natural to you."

"Oh, uh thanks," Buffy could feel the blush creeping up her cheeks. She chastised herself just a little. One thing she had learned throughout her life was that people in charge rarely liked being shown up by their students or underlings or whatever have you. And then she chuckled and glanced at Sam as she straightened up, bag in hand, towel in the other. "I'm sorry to say, I was so caught up that I couldn't even honestly return the compliment."

"Oh," Sam waved his hand. "I know some of the moves, but my use of them was more, get the job done, you know, not looking... I don't know," he chuckled, looking sheepish. Buffy smiled as well. Being short, all her life, she knew that people couldn't appreciate the problems that went with it, so she imagined, on the other end of the spectrum, being so tall probably offered Sam some challenges.

"Well that's what counts right?" she offered. "'Cause I highly doubt in a real fight that executing a perfect Biellmann would wow your opponent into submission." She saw immediately the confusion in his eyes.

"A beel what?" he grinned and Buffy was shaking her head.

"Sorry, figure skating term," she offered. "If you've ever watched..." she trailed off when she saw his face scrunch up as it caught up to the puzzlement in his eyes. "The move named after Nicole Biellmann where the skater's leg is pulled up from behind to a position higher than the head?"

"That sounds... very painful," Sam finally admitted. "So you, uh, like figure skating? Watching or...?"

"Both actually," Buffy admitted, watching him from the corner of her eye, to gage his reaction to that little tidbit. To some, it was a weird hobby, but one that she loved and wouldn't back down from. It was actually, unknown or uncared about to most, a very athletically challenging sport. And beautiful at the same time. Much like the tai chi. With skates! "Although it's been a few years since I last went," she sighed. She noticed that the room was slowly emptying, with some of the club members utilizing the community centers restrooms to change in again. She gestured that way and Sam automatically began moving along with her.

"I never really watched any actual figure skating," he admitted and she was pleased that there was no derision in his voice. "Regular skating was tough enough for me," he told her quietly, but with a smile still on his face.

"Especially when there's a lack of snow and ice in your region," Buffy decided. "Indoor rinks are nice though, but usually too crowded for the kind of skating I like."

"I can imagine," Sam nodded. "I was invited to this one kid's birthday party. Everyone in our class was. I spent the entire hour falling down." He shook his head, lost in recollection it seemed. "Man, my brother was supposed to pick me up, he came early instead and spent the entire time flirting with every girl he saw and getting them all to laugh at me."

"Hey now," Buffy protested. Sure, she didn't mind having a good giggle at Dawn's normal misfortunes, but to actively encourage others... "That's really mean!"

"Oh I don't mean that," Sam winced and then shrugged. "I guess it was just too hilarious for him and he couldn't help it. He was laughing and I just drew the attention to me, I suppose."

"Well, okay," Buffy sighed, but then held up her finger. "But you know, if I find out different, then I'm gonna track your brother down and kick his butt, you know, one older sibling to another. That's just bad," she sputtered. "Bad big brother!" Sam however was laughing so hard, probably at the image of tiny little Buffy trying to lecture and lay the smack down on someone who was just as huge, maybe more than Sam was.

"Actually, Dean'd... no never mind," Sam grimaced then.

"He'd what?" Buffy chuckled. "Don't leave me hanging here." They'd moved into the hallway by then and paused outside the door.

"Well, pretty girl putting her hands on him," Sam hinted broadly. "He'd so totally take it the wrong way, if you get what I mean?"

And of course, Buffy did. "Right," she nodded with a grin plastered on her face. "I forget. Porn stash Dean. I don't know what I was thinking." She watched and Sam winced and grimaced all in one motion and she giggled. "You're really regretting ever letting that slip, aren't you?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," Sam nodded quickly and vigorously.

"All right," she drawled. "I'll let you off the hook this time." She glanced over to see a girl exiting the change room, heading out into the night, alone. It brought back the portion earlier in the evening that should be prevalent in her mind. Girls like that weren't safe. Not with Dracula in town. She needed to call Giles as soon as possible and then get out there and patrol. It was all she could do at the moment. "Well, this is where I hop off," she muttered, gesturing at the rest room door. Sam nodded, seeming relieved at the end of the topic of conversation and with a small wave, continued down the corridor to where the men's change room was. Buffy slipped into the changing area and with a quick glance under the stalls to see if anyone was left, hurried to change into her street clothes before making her call.


	6. Supporto Gal

**Title: Approaching Normal**

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to BtVS or Supernatural. They are owned respectively by Whedon & Mutant Enemy and by Eric Kripke. No infringement is intended. This fiction is intended for private enjoyment only.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Crossover

Type: Friendship/ Romance

Pairing: Buffy/ Sam Winchester

Summary: At last they got the chance at a normal life that they thought they always wanted.

Spoilers/ Time line: Season 5 of Buffy (of sorts) and Pre Series for Supernatural.

Feedback: Always welcome!

Distribution: Ask first please.

A/N: This is written for the Jess? Who's Jess? challenge from the Twisting The Hellmouth site.

Chapter Six

Supporto Gal

"Giles?" Buffy strove to keep any sign of panic from her voice. As soon as she had changed and was reasonably sure that the immediate vicinity was clear, she put in the call to her Watcher.

"Buffy?" Giles sounded tired and she wondered if she had woken him up. She hadn't even checked the time before she had called. "Is something wrong?"

"Possibly yeah," she answered, not wanting him to freak out and think it was the end of the world or something. "I had a run in with a Vamp tonight."

"Well Buffy, we discussed that," Giles sighed over the line and she could just imagine him rubbing at his eyes tiredly like he did sometimes. "Even though you are not actively protecting-!"

"No Giles," she protested. "It wasn't a run of the mill dusting. It was... well," she hesitated, worried for a moment that maybe she had really bought too much into the whole Dracula debuncle. But then, the monster had turned into a bat. Resolved, she went on. "I was cornered by Dracula tonight. The real deal."

"Oh!" she could hear the surprise in his voice. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure," she grunted and proceeded to relate that portion of her evening's entertainment to him. "I wasn't even aware that they could do that. I thought that was totally the bogus part of the myth."

"Well," Giles muttered. "Dracula is old. Perhaps he has more powers than we had assumed associated with modern Vampires."

"Great," Buffy sighed. "So not only did Count Famous make a special trip to Stanford to search me out, but he's got even more neato goodies up his sleeve than the average vamp."

"You're quite certain that it was a special trip?" Giles questioned her. "It wasn't just happenstance that he was there?"

"No, he told me that he was looking for me, specifically," Buffy muttered. "I mean, you'd think he'd go to the Hellmouth. That's where all the baddies go to get their fang on, you know."

"I wonder why that is," Giles mused and before Buffy could even form a quip, went on, "that he was after you?"

"I dunno," Buffy shrugged, not caring that Giles couldn't see her. "Maybe 'cause I'm older. He did say that I'm famous in their world. Everyone knows my name. It was actually kinda flattering," she grinned, knowing that would annoy. Ha, she could still get her kick remotely instead of not at all.

"Yes, well, let's not let that thought go to our heads, shall we?" Giles admonished. Buffy rolled her eyes ,wondering if Giles ever pictured her more predictable actions and facial gestures when they talked by phone and it kind of amused her to think that he might. But it was back to business.

"It wouldn't be that bad," she sighed, "but in Sunnydale, I mean, I know people pretty much blank out the things that go bump in the night, but at least some of the population knows not to go roaming around at night. They don't have that here. I've gotta do something Giles."

"Hmm, yes," Giles spoke quickly. "I quite agree. Perhaps you could lure Dracula here. I can start researching a little more. I wonder if the Codex, or perhaps Zensharii's guide might have something useful in it."

"Lure him back," Buffy mused.

"If he was actively searching you out," Giles decided, "then he will follow you. You'll just need to be sure that he overhears your plans."

"Right, right," Buffy nodded. "It'll have to be quick. I want to finish this as fast as possible."

"I understand Buffy," Giles sighed. Buffy pondered for a moment and then heard a door shutting close by. "Hang on Giles," she offered quietly. Grabbing up her bag, she moved to the door and pulled it open, only slightly awkward. She saw Sam leaning across the hall on the wall, smiling when he saw her exit. "Sam?"

"After your run in tonight, I thought I'd offer to walk you home," he told her quietly. Something in his earnest demeanor touched at her and then a sinking feeling rolled down in her stomach. Sam wasn't safe. None of the residents of Palo Alto were. She nodded. She could keep him safe if she had too. But at the same time, she didn't want him becoming a target because he knew her. But then his face crumpled a little and he grimaced. "Oh sorry, didn't realize you were on the phone."

Reminded, Buffy smiled tightly and pulled the phone back up to her ear. She motioned for Sam to join her and after just a moment's hesitation he grabbed his duffel bag and followed after her. Buffy slung her bag over her shoulder and put the phone back to her ear.

"Sorry about that Giles," she began. "Just tell Faith to hang tight. Make sure you give her plenty of ice cream and tissue and seriously, call Willow. As I recall, you're no good in the comforting a teenage girl after a bad break up," she tried to force a little joviality into the dig.

"Am I to assume that someone is hearing this conversation now?" Giles sighed.

"Yeah, totally," Buffy chuckled and then sighed. "I don't think the buses are running tonight, but I will hop the first one heading that way in the morning. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"All right," Giles agreed. "That sounds like a plan. Take care."

"I will," Buffy responded softly. "You too."

She hung up her cell and stuffed it into her coat pocket before turning to Sam. "Sorry about that," she apologized as they reached the door. Sam leaned forward to push the heavy bar on the door open and then held it for her, stepping back to allow her through. She stiffened only momentarily as she felt the sweep over her senses, the Slayer radar tingling. There was a Vamp in the area and she was hoping that it was the Count.

"Oh, no problem," Sam smiled down at her. "I just hope everything's okay."

"Eh, it's kind of not," Buffy shrugged, keeping a slight distance between them.

The excuse she had come up with was on her mind and she hoped she was speaking loudly enough for Drac, if it was him and she was reasonably sure it was. "One of my friends is having a bit of a personal crisis. And I promised I would come help sort it out."

"Yeah, I got that," Sam nodded as they headed down the steps and onto the sidewalk. "It's not too serious, is it?" he asked carefully.

"Just in the sense that it'll require chick flicks, chocolate and massive amounts of ice cream and male bashing," she teased, "and not necessarily in that order."

"Ah, another one of those mysterious female bonding rituals," Sam chuckled.

"Yeah," she nodded. "So I'll go home and be moral supporto gal for the weekend and be back Monday. Oh thank god I don't have class until one."

"How far is it you'll have to travel?" Sam asked. "Sunnydale right?"

"Yeah," Buffy nodded. She was reaching out a little, with her senses and whatever baddie was tracking her was right on her tail. "It's a good drive, but not undoable." She hoped that Sam wouldn't push too much, because there was a lot she couldn't say. But instead of waiting and seeing, she took the initiative and changed the subject herself. "So hey, did you get all that reading done for art class?"

"I did," Sam sounded surprised that she asked. "It was interesting material."

"Which?" she asked, "the text book or the treatise on photographic representations that was recommended?"

"Both actually," he grinned. And she glanced up at him, arching her eyebrow. She'd glanced over the treatise and found it incredibly dry and boring.

"Okay," she groaned. "Don't tell me you're one of those types that can read anything, no matter how dry and dusty and boring."

That seemed to stun him for a moment and then he laughed. "Yeah, I guess I am. Well, that's not true, I've found a few books that put even me to sleep."

"Uh huh," Buffy muttered, her eyes constantly scanning the street. She wanted to look up, knowing that the buildings along this street could be good cover, but what excuse would she use. Maybe if she could get Sam rambling. And since they were already on the topic. "So what's your favorite book?"

"Oh, well," he seemed taken aback again as he regarded her, but Buffy, resolving to prove Sam to be not a friend and therefore usable against her, just affected a polite, but slightly disinterested face. "I've read so much, you know, both for school and just to pass the time, it's hard to pick just one." She made a little grimace and he frowned and then hurried to figure something out. "I've always liked To Kill A Mockingbird, by Harper Lee," he offered hastily.

"Mmm," Buffy shrugged. "I think we had to read that. Uh tenth grade English maybe? The movie was good."

"Yeah, yeah it was," he sounded a little relieved now. "You don't find that too often when they make movies out of books. Even if it's a classic or even the latest thriller on the market."

"But at least it makes English assignments easier," Buffy declared and could see how her slacker declaration took him aback.

"I guess," Sam sighed. "So uh, what's your-!"

But before he could try and start digging for her likes and disses, Buffy cut him off. "Of course, teachers don't really like it, but hey, what they don't know, right?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed slowly. "I guess. Depends on the teacher and how dedicated they are to their job, I would suppose."

"Yup," Buffy nodded, glancing away again. Sam fell silent beside her and the walk progressively became more awkward as they moved along. Buffy was glad when they reached her dorm, for more reasons than one. She really hated treating Sam this way and hoped he wouldn't take it the wrong way. But by the slightly miserable look in his eyes, she knew that was a pipe dream. But better slightly disappointed and not a midnight snack, in her mind. If Sam ever ran into a Vampire, well, she could only shudder at the thought of how horribly that would play out.

"Well, here we are," she piped up, gesturing at the building, like she had earlier in the evening at the community center. "I guess I'll see you when I see you." And without another word, she dashed up the steps, forcing herself not to take a peek at him. For one, she didn't want to see that kicked puppy look on his face.

She pulled the door open just as the breeze carried his obviously wounded words to her ears.

"Yeah, see you."

She winced and kept her head down, biting at her lip. Reminding herself that she had a job to do, to keep Sam and the rest of the campus, and town safe, she turned away from going up the stairs to where her room was, instead ducking into the hallway that led to the rec room. She paused, knowing that she was out of sight of the door and reached out with her sense once more. She could still feel the Vamp. And waited and waited, but to her relief, there were no screams, no yells and the feeling stayed, powerful and dangerous. Most definitely dangerous.

Sam watched as Buffy dashed up the steps and into her dorm room. Wondering if maybe her phone call back home had upset her more than she had let on. It was like she had gone into the bathroom to change and had changed more than just her clothes. She was standoffish and short with him the whole walk back. Staring for just a moment longer, Sam realized he was acting a little foolishly. Standing there like a lovesick swain, he could just imagine how Dean would laugh at him, if he ever saw him like this.

Turning to head towards his own room, Sam felt a prickle run up the back of his neck. He turned his head, but his eyes saw nothing out of the ordinary. With years of experience under his belt, he continued to slowly amble along the path to his dorm building, all the while analyzing everything he saw. Just because he was in the normal world didn't mean that the supernatural didn't bump into it. He knew from experience that it did all the time. He continued to walk, dealing with the uncomfortable sensation that he was being watched. But his surreptitious glances revealed nothing and after about a block, the feeling, the shivers, just abruptly stopped.

Using the excuse of dropping down to re-tie one of his sneakers, Sam glanced all around him. But he still saw nothing that would raise any more red flags and chuckling to himself, wrote it off to an overactive imagination. Best thing to do now was to head home, get some sleep and start fresh in the morning. When Buffy got home from her impromptu trip, he could assess if tonight was just an anomaly. For like many males in this world, he really had no clue how the female mind worked and he could only hope that this was a one off thing.


	7. Seeing Some Of The Real Me

**Title: Approaching Normal**

Chapter Title: Seeing Some of the Real Me

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to BtVS or Supernatural. They are owned respectively by Whedon & Mutant Enemy and by Eric Kripke. No infringement is intended. This fiction is intended for private enjoyment only.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Crossover

Type: Friendship/ Romance

Pairing: Buffy/ Sam Winchester

Summary: At last they got the chance at a normal life that they thought they always wanted.

Spoilers/ Time line: Season 5 of Buffy (of sorts) and Pre Series for Supernatural.

Feedback: Always welcome!

Distribution: Ask first please.

A/N: This is written for the Jess? Who's Jess? challenge from the Twisting The Hellmouth site.

Chapter Seven

Seeing Some Of The Real Me

Sam was eager to get to school come Monday morning. He had been fretting all weekend. He hadn't recognized that fact at first. He knew that he had been having a little trouble focusing on his schoolwork, the homework that he needed to complete. Thinking that it had been just a case of going stir crazy in the dorm room, he had decided to head out to the local library. But there, it was a case of the same. He was having trouble concentrating. And then, when he realized that every time he heard a feminine voice that sounded even slightly familiar and glancing up to see that it wasn't Buffy, he'd reluctantly turn back to the book he was reading, skimming, or the notes he was trying to take.

He knew better of course, that she'd be back so quick. From what she had described, her friend was going through a rough break up or something and needed female bonding time. And Buffy had rushed right back to help her. It had helped just a little, though he didn't want to examine it at the time, that as he counted it up, she seemed to have more female friends than male ones. At least back home. He couldn't say for sure here at Stanford. They only had the one class together and of course, the fencing group. But he was unsure still as to whether or not Buffy was going to stick with the art appreciation class.

With accomplishing his homework at the library a wash, he had headed out for dinner, but had had to eat a solitary meal. Not that he usually minded that, because it was a somewhat familiar situation to him. And he missed his brother, much more than he wanted to admit. At least, with Dean around, there'd always been someone to talk to, even if it was just to end up arguing. But Sam reminded himself, it wasn't like he was totally alone one hundred percent of the time. He'd just catch some of the friends he had been making... later.

Sunday was pretty much a repeat of Saturday, except that he was pacing his room a little more than was his usual wont when there was a problem preying on his mind. Realizing that forcing himself to do his homework when he was so distracted would result in sloppy work and a low grade, he had allowed himself some time to think on this other problem. The problem was, he couldn't see where the problem was.

Things had started off great, even if it had been an accident just barely averted. It hadn't been a monumental thing. Spilled coffee happened all the time. He would have offered to pay for her dry cleaning. And they could have gone from there, since they had their class together. Even if neither of them had known it at the time. She hadn't always been able to stick around, but from what Sam could understand of the hints in their conversations and her body language, she was interested in... something. He had thought on that a while too.

In high school, there had been no interest, really. No competition, because all the girls flocked to the elder Winchester boy. Dean had been fun and rebellion and heat all wrapped up into one horny package. He had had no problem using girls and forgetting about them before Dad had even had a chance to swoop in and pack them up to move on to the next job, the next town. Sam had been left on the sidelines, but for the few times that Dean had tried to hook him up. And with the results usually being embarrassing, or nauseating, or both, Sam had begun to shy away from his brother and his ideas of 'high romance'.

But when Dean was finished with high school and Sam still attended, he had begun to blossom a bit on his own. It hadn't hurt that he'd had a massive growth spurt and with Dad and Deans' insistence on the hunting, the physical activity had helped tone his body and add the muscle mass that kept him from being a total string bean. The loss of his pre-teen chubbiness had allowed the sharper planes of his face to develop, though not harshly and he had begun to attract his fair share of feminine attention from different quarters. It had been that and also a time of encouragement from certain teachers, learning how to stand up for himself without having to rely on his big brother's presence and how to stand up for others that had helped Sam come into his own.

And one of the things that he had looked forward to with getting away to college, wasn't just the learning aspect, it was the social connection. He hadn't come to college to party, but he had been very much looking forward to meeting and getting to know people that he wouldn't just have to up and leave in a few weeks, or less. And there had been, the thought, more than a few times, that maybe those people could include females of the more permanent type. A girlfriend, maybe a few (though not all at once), since Sam really wasn't sure what type he would be attracted to. And eventually a girlfriend that would evolve into something... well, a little more permanent. Something that Sam craved, knew that he did, but never acknowledged outside his own mind. A family. His own, one that accepted who he was, deep down, that loved him for what he was, not despite it.

He hadn't really had these thoughts with Buffy. He was still stuck in the getting to know her and knowing a few things about her, really wanting to get to know more about her stage of a relationship. And yes, there was the physical attraction. She was a very pretty girl. And funny. Athletic, of course and actually, a little more brainy than stereotypes would say she was. Altogether, it was a package that Sam liked.

So the problem was, did she like him back in the same manner? And if she did, what had happened to put the brakes on that? Because the last time he had seen her, it was as if she was with someone who was nearly a complete stranger. There had been nothing of the humor and empathy that she had shown him just minutes before they'd left that complex. He might have worried that another girl had said something to her, but there hadn't really been anyone else about. And there was the thought that perhaps she was more concerned about the nights events than she had been letting on. Of course, that hadn't been the case earlier, when that role playing reject had cornered her in the alley. But then, there was the added stress of a friend needing help.

Or at least that was what Sam was trying to convince himself of.

That evening, after finally completing his homework, Sam had taken off for the Stanford dining room again and this time, was relieved to see a class mate of his from his computer class. Brady, he recalled easily, since the guy had offered to partner up with him on the upcoming projects. They'd had an easy time, working together already in class. They'd meshed well and Brady had a great sense of humor and had encouraged Sam to join in the college life a little more deeply than he already had. Not that Sam had exactly embraced Brady's idea of a good time. But he had the feeling that Brady would talk him round into attending some of the parties, at some point, sooner or later.

After going through the line and receiving his fare, Sam made a beeline to join the group, wanting to get out of his head for just a little while. He was welcomed instantly as Brady chivvied everyone down a little to make room for Sam at the table.

"Hey man," he greeted, slapping a gentle palm on the back of Sam's shoulder. "Was wonderin' if I was gonna see you down here."

"I've been around," Sam grinned as he started arranging his meal off of the tray. He picked up the utensils rolled in the paper napkin and settled the knife and spoon off to the side. With his fork he spread the casserole entree out a little to let it cool before digging in. "Had some homework to finish, but I'm good."

"Which class?" another student asked, a young woman, brunette with pretty features. She didn't quite have the animation that Buffy's had, but she still seemed nice.

"A couple," he grinned.

"Oh sorry," Brady chuckled. "Sam, this is Julie, Julie, Sam. We got Philo 101 together."

"Ah," Sam murmured and then shoved a forkful of food in his mouth. Talk resumed around the table about, from what Sam could understand, the validity of some of the protest groups that had arisen already, whether they were legitimate concerns or problems being blown out of proportion by skewed, biased facts in which information had been deliberately left out, to attract young impressionable minds. Sam found it interesting and weighed in a few time as thoughts occurred to him. But when he caught sight of a blond bounding into the cafeteria in such an exuberant manner, conversation was forgotten and Sam stared until the girl turned and he sagged in disappointment.

"Keepin' an eye out for the honeys?" Brady teased and Sam startled slightly. Flushing a slight pink, he shook his head quickly. "Or maybe it's just one in particular?" Brady continued, his voice bemused. "A certain Miss... Buff-ay?" her name was drawled off his lips like molasses and Sam eyed his friend. There were good humored smiles on the assorted members of the small group and Brady, who had already finished his meal, sitting with arms crossed and his elbows resting on the table, nudged Sam lightly on the arm with the elbow closest to him.

"Why would you think that?" Sam demanded, swallowing slightly, embarrassed that he was apparently quite transparent in his feelings.

"I didn't... until now," Brady teased. "Although, the way you were mooning over her Friday night was a pretty good indication, huh?"

"I wasn't mooning," Sam protested immediately, hotly, the flush on his face growing slightly.

"Uh, let's see," Brady, leaned back in his chair, held up one hand and including the others in his glance, began ticking things off. "Grinning like a fool, bouncing up and down the moment you spotted her, givin' her the big ol' puppy dog eyes... survey says?"

And the rest of the group laughingly responded, "mooning!" Sam ducked his head as they tittered at him. Was he really...? He peeked out of the corner of his eye and saw that the laughter was dying down quickly. Brady had resumed his position of before and nudged Sam's arm.

"No big man," he breathed out, not too loud, but not like it was a secretive communication. "Lot's of guys got the hots for her."

"They do?" Sam asked helplessly, feeling a sinking feeling clenching it's way down the middle of his gut. Of course they did, he answered himself. She was pretty, smart, funny, athletic, his mind cataloged instantly again. Why wouldn't guys be attracted to that? Lord knew, he was.

Brady was nodding his head and hmming to himself. "Thought she was pretty cool myself," he indulged. "Figured she'd come off as some snob, but she's pretty cool."

"Oh," Sam murmured, suddenly feeling a very strange and discordant, unfamiliar depression sink over him. "Do you...?" he began to ask, but couldn't force the words out. But Brady understood immediately.

"Ah hell no," he laughed deeply. "Sure, she's a great girl an' all. But we're just friends."

"You are?" Sam asked, seeing suddenly, a dim light at the end of the tunnel he suddenly found himself in.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "We had a couple classes together last year, partied together some. She's alright. A little strange sometimes. Don't always understand when she speaks... but, yeah, Buffy's okay."

"She does have a weird way of twisting her verbs, doesn't she?" Sam smiled indulgently. But then the smile faded, as seriousness took hold again. Anxiousness also made an appearance.

"What is it man?" Brady asked, picking up on the mood shift and toning his voice down even more, shifting so that his back was to his neighbor on the other side giving Sam his full attention.

"Nothing," Sam sighed as he pushed his meal away. Brady just waited, patient. And then Sam wondered, why not? It wasn't like Brady would use a moment of perceived weakness against him. Not like Dad and Dean would, storing them up to drag out when he was at his worst. The very kind of thing that his family did, holding gripes and grudges like bludgeons. "Well, it's not nothing. But I can't figure it out."

"What happened?" his friend encouraged.

"Friday night," Sam began. "Things were... going well." Brady nodded, encouraging him to go on. "And then, after... things just changed. She got really distant. Cold even."

Brady inhaled sharply and leaned in closer. "What'd you do man? You didn't...?"

"Didn't what?" Sam demanded softly. Brady glanced away momentarily, his eyes narrowing as he focused on something elsewhere. But then he turned back to Sam.

"You didn't, you know... sleep with her and then blow her off?" Brady demanded quietly and Sam's eyes startled wide.

"No!" he protested immediately. "Of course not. We're not... jeez, we haven't even had a date. Or anything like that," he mumbled. That seemed to relieve Brady and he motioned Sam in. Curious, Sam leaned down to hear what Brady had to say.

"See that douche over there?" his friend asked. Sam glanced up where Brady was gesturing. There, in the center of the dining room, where a group of what looked to be jocks, all sorts of types, really. "Dark haired, in the blue sweater?" Sam nodded as he pinpointed the male that Brady was pointing out. "That's Parker Abrams man."

"And who exactly is Parker Abrams?" Sam wondered, slightly confused. How did they get on to another person when they'd been talking about Buffy?

"The dick that slept with Buff, dumped her and told everyone she was a slut for giving it up to him so quick," Brady informed him with some sort of poorly concealed antagonism.

"What?" Sam's eyes darted to Abrams again, seething dislike of the jerk bubbling up his chest on principal alone, a rage building in more intimate reaction to the treatment of someone he considered at the very least, a friend.

"So man, not sleeping with her after just gettin' to know her?" Brady chuckled darkly. "You're already a step ahead of Abrams."

"What happened?" Sam asked helplessly, craving more of these tidbits. Perhaps it would help explain what had changed Buffy's attitude. Perhaps it might not be a reaction to him per se, but things in her life that she hadn't shared with him. He felt a small twinge of guilt that he was hearing this from a third party, but he assured himself that if it ever came up, he would handle it with as much sensitivity as he could muster.

"Man," Brady shook his head, straightening up again. "Buffy's a one guy girl, you know. And from what I gathered, she had this big, strong romance with some guy in high school. Soul mate type deal. But you know, everyone thinks their love is like that as a teen." Sam nodded his agreement. He had already sensed these things, he knew. But hearing it confirmed twisted his gut again, even as it spoke to his own soul. "Anyway, this guy just up and left her, broke her heart. So she came to college, looking to start fresh. And Abrams, he's the use her and lose her type of guy. He gets off on duping freshmen girls. At the same time he was playing Buffy, he had five or six other girls on the line too. Got some crap line about losing his dad and how he realized that life was too short for sitting around. Lotta girls seem to fall for it and unfortunately Buffy weren't no different."

"That's not..." Sam began, wincing. That wasn't actually a bad philosophy, but to use it to manipulate other people? That's where Sam had to draw a line.

"Yeah man," Brady nodded. "It really got to her. She took a huge blow to her self esteem. Took her a while to come back from it. Don't know precisely what got her over the hump. But she's still kinda shy about the dating scene."

"Okay," Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He could understand all that. "Good to know. Thanks."

"But I wonder," Brady mused, "if she's upset with you, what'd you do?"

"I don't know," Sam admitted, still mystified. "Maybe," he pondered, as a thought occurred to him. "Maybe she really was just upset about her friend. What you told me, really puts that in perspective."

"What friend?" Brady asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. Sam shrugged.

"Girl from back home," he explained, not wanting to give away too much, since Buffy had spoken sort of in confidence to him. "Sounds like she was going through a rough patch."

"If it was a friend of Buffy's?" Brady snorted and then shook his head. "Yeah, that girl is righteously furious in her protection of her friends and family. She's devoted to them." And then he chuckled again. "The kind of devotion that comes along once in a lifetime."

"Yeah," Sam smiled, feeling slightly better, at least with how things probably stood between he and Buffy. "That is pretty rare."

"And it's a gem when you find it," Brady sighed contemplatively. He then clapped his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Now eat up. You're gonna need you're strength for when that girl gets back. And man, I am gonna give you all the good tips."

"Good tips?" Sam asked, amused, even as he pulled his plate back towards himself.

"Like numero uno," Brady began, "don't let her drink." He laughed loudly. "Beer and Buffy? Not on speaking terms! Bad things happen when Buffy hits the booze."

"Yeah, she said something like that once," Sam winced, as he recalled the frat boy party story Buffy had told him.

"Second," Brady went on. "She adores her Mom and her sister, but that girl drives her nuts. You bring up the kid sister, you may have to listen to a three hour rant."

Sam didn't think that that would be so bad. After all, he could fill just as much time complaining about his brother. With an amused snort, he continued to feed himself while Brady went on, dispensing what advice he could, while Sam soaked it all up like the mental sponge that he was.

Later that day, after classes were over, and it was still early afternoon, Sam was feeling a kind of nervous energy. There was a possibility that he might see Buffy around campus. He was hoping that she was back and wishing that he had some way of contacting her. Well, there was looking through the campus directory, but part of him wished that she would offer her number to him, rather than him searching it out. It was doable, but if she were to offer, then he would know that it was all right to call. He thought that they knew each other well enough to at least be able to check and make sure that she had made it home okay. Or technically speaking back home and then back to college. Even if there was nothing more there, that was still allowable, wasn't it?

It was difficult for him, these rules of relationships, he realized, because his family had spent so much time on the road, they hadn't stuck around for more than a month, maybe six weeks top at a place. And while Dean was a fairly simple person to get along with, he was still Sam's older brother and knew all the right buttons to push, even when he didn't mean to. And Dean's idea of relating to people was also very simplified. There were very few categories that people fell into. There was the us and them category. Simple enough, as everyone that was not a Winchester or a hunter that they knew quite well was not to be trusted.

Beyond that, were they of the hot female persuasion? Then they were worthy of attention when Dean was bored. Or were they males of the sucker type that he could bilk for money? Or were they authority types to be avoided? If people fall into any of those categories, then Dean pretty much ignored them. And Sam had been helplessly dragged along for the ride. And even as he realized this, Sam also recognized that he had developed his own defenses about letting people get too close. He'd had to for the safety and security of people not believing that he was crazy.

But at the same time, he had a natural affinity for emoting with people. Probably because he was coming into situations, not knowing everything, so he was quick to see what the problems might be. Or able to apply the emotional upheaval that growing up for anyone caused, because he had seen so much upheaval in his own life. Certainly there were going to be situations that were strange to him, but at least he had a good foundation of being able to imagine how he would feel if he were in another person's shoes. And to draw upon it when needed.

So that was how he had dealt with hearing from Brady all the things that had happened to Buffy. He certainly understood how it felt to be used by another. To have people make fun of him for a decision that wasn't the best. And yes, while he was no stranger, thanks in very much to Dean, about sexual matters, nor was he a virgin.

Recognizing the small electric feel of excitement at the thought of another Buffy sighting happening at some point soon, he was in turns amused by his own mind and body, but also cognizant of his need to burn off some of that energy. In his turns around town, he had noted some resources that he had thought might come in handy down the road. One of those being a gym that seemed not to cater to health fad fanatics. Or college types out to make a quick pick-up. He wasn't like that. And when he went to a gym, it was because he truly had a need to burn off some energy or do something mindless so that he could work through a problem in his head.

Today was both.

And lucky for him, one of the guys in his class was a member of this particular gym and had kindly offered him a guest pass for the rest of the month. If he liked the place, the membership fee was reasonable and he was quite sure that he could swing it on his carefully laid out budget. So after his last class of the day, Sam loaded up his workout clothes and all the necessities he'd need to clean up afterwards.

The gym was not one of those flashy places, but he noted immediately that it was clean and moderately busy. The staff was friendly right from the get go, explaining the services they offered once he'd shown them his guest pass and directions around the building. So with a huge grin, he moved off to change.

As he moved out into the main room, Sam looked for the treadmills. He had decided that he'd try a run first, then maybe move onto some free weights. After that, he'd see what appealed. Since it had been awhile, he wanted to stretch to warm up first. As he found some mats near the bank of treadmills against an outer wall, he lowered himself down to stretch out his leg muscles before moving onto lower back stretches. It had been a while since he'd done any prolonged running and didn't want to end up pulling or tweaking anything that wasn't meant to be used like that.

He noted that no one seemed to take notice of him. And when he climbed onto the treadmill and chose his speed, incline and duration, that there were people at nearly every apparatus. There was also a class taking place in a glass walled room off to his left. He didn't give it much thought immediately, aside from noting that it was all women doing some sort of yoga type thing and that wasn't what he was here for.

He'd run for about fifteen minutes, and was already breathing heavy, wishing that he had thought to bring something to play some music over. The only thing he still had in his possession was an old disc man that tended to skip when it was jostled. If he intended to make this a regular thing, then he knew that investing in something smaller and probably digital would be a wise idea.

He was still no closer to assuring himself and calming over his misgivings about things with Buffy. He had tried to assure himself that it wasn't he or anything he had done that had caused her later standoffishness. Brady had been fairly sure that it was other things bugging the girl. But after Sam had left the dining hall, he'd gone over in his mind, if there was anything he had said or done that could have been misconstrued. He finally had to figure that it was a possibility. He obviously didn't know enough about Buffy's life and what had happened with her that might make her shy away from certain things.

He was staring hard, looking beyond the glass partition of the walled off room, not really seeing anything. At first. To start, he had just been wondering if the music he was hearing was bleeding over from someone else's device, but there was no one close enough to him for that. Then he had wondered about it coming from another part of the building. And then he had been able to pinpoint the slow build of music accompanying the class in the other room.

He had watched with interest as the class had progressed through simple routines, gradually building it up. The clothes had ranged from brightly spandexed workout outfits to loose fitting shorts and tight tees. Here and there, some had even invested in actual yoga tanks and full pants. Sam did note that those outfits were just as revealing in the own way as the spandex Lycra types, but had the advantage of not blinding anyone else with their garish colors.

It took him a long time before he realized that the body clad in a soft gray outfit with purple accents was someone he actually knew. And then he was blushing hotly all over when the blond girl turned and he instantly recognized the serene face of Buffy Summers. Her body was poised, balanced perfectly, like it had been Friday evening. Her arms stretched out as her main body lowered into a low balanced pose that tested her center of gravity. But she held it as naturally as if she were standing still.

_'Amazing you didn't recognize her body first,'_ an inner voice that sounded amazingly like his elder brother tittered in his endorphin fueled brain. _'You stare at her ass and legs often enough.'_

The blush he was already suffused with, as he realized that this was true, deepened even more. Although that could have been because Buffy was now straightening up her body, going from stretching, reaching outwards, to moving upwards, her body a straight line as her hands, gently pressed together, reaching for the sky. The curves of her body became more delineated as she did so and Sam was at just the right angle to see how her softly rounded breasts arched forward, pressing against what was surely the nice soft cotton of her tank top.

He faltered slightly on the treadmill, his breath coming in heavier gasps than they should have and Sam quickly tore his eyes from her figure, embarrassed over his behavior. Buffy, he was sure, had not come here to be ogled by males. Even if they were friends.

_Just friends._ He reminded himself harshly. And again, if he hadn't known better, he would have sworn that Dean was right next to him.

_Yeah right! Ever hear of the term 'friends with benefits'?_

Sam gulped as he tried to regulate his breathing. Never in his life, had he been so attracted to a woman. Yes, there had been girls that he had been interested in. That had lasted until he had talked to them and had not been able to find common ground with them, shy as he had been. It wasn't a matter of pretty or not. If he hadn't been able to make a connection on a different level, the physical didn't matter to him. And yes, there had been actresses and singers often in the public eye that he could have fantasized over, like his brother often had, when no other female had been available. But that just hadn't been his style.

He couldn't help it when, despite his admonitions to himself that he focus on what he was doing, his eyes strayed to her. And so it was that he saw the class move into a bent over position and though he couldn't hear it, his groan of frustration was echoed in more than one place throughout the gym. Buffy, her feet placed flat on the ground, had placed her hands several feet ahead, her appendages seeming quite close together. She was in a position that was getting close to an inherently sexual one and Sam wished that either everyone else in this place would just disappear, or he and Buffy...

The thought disappeared as he watched, with sudden amusement, that while the rest of the class had started lowering themselves, Buffy had instead kicked off, bringing herself to a hand stand. He grinned as he heard the instructor's voice, muted through the glass partioning walls, obviously trying to correct her, but Buffy, even upside down, had a look of contentment on her face, so soft and peaceful. It was... beautiful.

But as she held the pose for longer and longer, the beauty wore off slightly and awe began to replace it. Sam knew that he could try a hand stand if he had to. But balancing for that long... and with her hands in that position? It seemed near impossible. And then more gasps from around the room, as all working out seemed to have come to a grinding halt as more people noticed Buffy's feat of strength and balance.

Sam was about ready to give up on his treadmill when suddenly Buffy's right hand came up off the ground and her body shifted only minimally to accommodate it. The treadmill was definitely a lost cause as his footing faltered and it was only adrenaline and panic that kept him from crashing to the ground. Falling backwards and landing hard from the four inch drop off the back end, Sam checked himself and then glanced up again.

She was still... She was amazing!

And then it all came crashing down as someone shrieked some encouragement to her and Buffy, her eyes popping open in startlement, came down hard. Sam winced as she landed on her shoulder and then he could see her no longer, as the women in her class scrambled around her, the teacher pushing her way through. But people eased back after a moment and Buffy popped up, easily stretching out the shoulder she had landed on. With his height, he could just make out the top of her head and face. And while she was flushed and flustered looking, Sam knew it could be just the workout, but he had the sense that she was shying away from all the attention she was suddenly receiving. And when she beat a hasty retreat from the room and the other women, he knew he was right.

Which also meant that he wouldn't be able to chase after her right this moment. No matter how much inner Dean or his own libido might be urging him to that very thing. With a muttered curse under his breath, Sam watched her leave the room, and turn away, heading for the changing rooms.

At least though, he tried to reassure himself, he knew now that she was back. And the chances of seeing her again sooner rather than later had just increased exponentially.


	8. Falling Away

**Title: Approaching Normal**

Chapter Title: Falling Away

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to BtVS or Supernatural. They are owned respectively by Whedon & Mutant Enemy and by Eric Kripke. No infringement is intended. This fiction is intended for private enjoyment only.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Crossover

Type: Friendship/ Romance

Pairing: Buffy/ Sam Winchester

Summary: At last they got the chance at a normal life that they thought they always wanted.

Spoilers/ Time line: Season 5 of Buffy (of sorts) and Pre Series for Supernatural.

Feedback: Always welcome!

Distribution: Ask first please.

A/N: This is written for the Jess? Who's Jess? challenge from the Twisting The Hellmouth site.

Chapter Eight

Falling Away

"You go girl!"

The screech, interrupting the flow of consciousness, or maybe it was the flow of unconsciousness, startled Buffy and the next thing she knew, she was feeling weighted and dropping fast. Instinctively she curled her body in on itself, but it wasn't enough and she landed hard on her shoulder.

"Ah," she hissed, rolling to her back immediately, her body tensing automatically for a fight. But the bright lights glaring in her eyes and the profusion of feminine voices squawking around her brought her fully back to the moment. She was in yoga class, not on patrol. She blinked several times, squinting slightly against the halo created by the lights around the mass of bodies that were pressing in, leaning over her.

"Move back please," the voice of the instructor was becoming strident and then Buffy winced again as the lights flared once more with her class mates moving out of the way. And then Wanda was there. Leaning over, she offered her hand to Buffy. Wary of showing off too much Slayerly-ness, Buffy reached for the proffered hand with her uninjured side. Wanda braced herself on the mat and Buffy hauled herself upright. She frowned as she took in the fanatical amazement and a not unsurprising amount of jealousy on the faces of the women around her.

"Well, I have to say, that was amazing," Wanda smiled, as she let loose of Buffy's hand.

"The fall or the pose?" Buffy quipped immediately, glancing over her right shoulder at the supposedly injured part of her body. She very carefully began to raise her arm, assessing the feel of the major muscle group she had landed on. Wanda's tsking noise emanating from her throat gave her pause.

"Want me to check it?" she asked solicitously and Buffy shook her head in the negative.

"Should be okay," she grinned tightly. She hated having people that she didn't know very well put their hands on her. Unfortunately they tended to get the Slay ready reaction rather than the friendly. Wanda looked skeptical and Buffy continued to gingerly raise her arm and then complete a broad spectrum of mobility movements, wincing only once as the muscles pulled when her arm was fully extended forward.

The wince however, was mostly for show. Yeah, there was a tug of a tight muscle, but with the added bonus of accelerated healing to due the package upgrade that came with her calling, it would be gone in a matter of hours. Maybe less.

"You might want to get some ice on that immediately," Wanda advised and Buffy nodded. She knew the routine first aid treatment for bruises and muscle pulls. She'd certainly had enough of them in her life.

"Will do," she answered absently. She could hear the murmurs of the other women, talking about her near miraculous feat and fought the flush that was rising that had nothing to do with physically exerting herself. Once again, she had nearly blown her cover.

"...and next time you want to attempt something like that," Wanda's amused voice broke through once more, "let me know so I can spot you."

"I will," Buffy nodding, her mouth tight as she began to move away, finding that the crowd was parting much more slower than to her liking. She moved over to the wall where the class members had stored their bags and belongings. She located her own and hefted it with her left hand before ignoring the calls of farewell and slipped out of the room. She kept her head down, not wanting anymore attention, and knowing that if she had it, she didn't want to know it.

She made straight for the changing room, thinking about Wanda's advice. It was already too late for icing, being the minor injury that it was. But some heat would feel nice, relaxing. There had been one time that she had thought that about beer. But maybe a steam would be a good substitute instead. She knew that the gym offered segregated steam rooms, but had been informed by way of the public notice board that the men's room was out of commission at the moment. Some problem with the flooring that they were fixing. So at this point, the women's steam room was available for use by both sexes.

Buffy grinned as she ducked into the change room.

It wasn't like she was a big prude who wouldn't even contemplate sharing an enclosed, specially heated steamy room with a stranger. After all, her towel covered more skin than her bathing suit did. But, her bathing suit was also designed to stay on. Whereas her towel, one tug and... But then, if there was some guy in there, Buffy could just stay on the other side.

But when she took a quick peek inside, she found that the room was empty and her mind made up, quickly went to change. The room was still empty when she returned and she busied herself with getting the temperature and moisture level up enough so that she could work up a good steam before cooling down with a refreshing shower.

After the weekend that she had had, she needed this. And it hadn't just been the situation with Dracula, there had been the inherent stress that being around Dawn had brought on. It was almost like she'd had this great break from the annoyances that Dawn caused and now that she was back, albeit for a short time, they were all the more glaring. Flowing and feeling the muscles in her body tightening up, Buffy consciously made the effort to push those thoughts away for another time.

She was more concerned about Faith anyway.

After her hasty decision and conference with Giles, Buffy had had the difficult task of getting back to her dorm room while protecting an unsuspecting Sam while treating him like just a school mate. Well, maybe unsuspecting wasn't quite the right word. Because he had definitely looked... Buffy hadn't wanted to think too hard on that. As she had kept telling herself, a living, breathing boy turned off by her weirdness was always better than a dead hottie potential boyfriend.

That was one of the objectives that she'd sort of dealt with over the weekend. She hadn't meant to, but Sam had come up a few times. A few ways. With a few people. Giles of course, she had to explain that she had been at a class with Sam, who had interrupted her and Drac's initial conversation. She had dismissed him as just someone she had a couple classes with. To Giles anyway. Willow's eyes, when Buffy caught her gaze though, had been amused and sneaky.

The cornering she got after their Scooby meeting had been brief, since Buffy had weaseled her way out, noting that Tara didn't look to comfrotable with Faith. Willow's unconvinced resolve face told Buffy that they'd be having words later. And that had been fine with Buffy. She just wanted to have those words away from other certain people. Namely Faith, Anya and Xander. And all for very different reasons.

With Xander it was simple. Having seen her through the worst of her relationships since she had come to Sunnydale, he was naturally suspicious of all males and overly protective of his friends. And Buffy was at long last, though it had taken her a while and Willow whacking her over the head several times in the past with a spiral bound notebook, to understand the monumental crush that Xander had on her. She suspected that he sort of still had it. But it was more superhero girl fan crush, than inappropriate teenage hormone fueled fantasy...

Buffy grinned, adjusting the hem line of her towel before lying on the wooden slatted block bench. The herbs that had been available to add to the steam were light and fragrant and relaxing once more, she inhaled deeply of the woodsy, fresh scent. It occurred to her that perhaps fan crush and teenage boy crush weren't that different. But she knew she had little to worry about. Xander had Anya and as strange as that pairing might seem, it worked. She had no idea how, but it was good. For them.

If only Xander could get away with putting a gag on his girlfriend, then Buffy's friend world would be complete and blissful. But even as she thought it, she knew that she didn't really mean it. She had to fight to remember on every single occasion that Anya made some disturbing quip, complete with visuals, or a rampant insult or a memory of her good old days as a Vengeance Demon, that the woman was still relatively new to being a human. There had to be some allowances But Buffy also wondered how long that excuse would fly.

It was true that Anya had only been human for a few years, but she had been human before. And her long, very long gig as a Vengeance Demon had given her an interesting look into the scope of human vagaries. But then, Buffy mused to herself, that was the problem. Anya had been focused so long on the dregs of society that she hadn't anything to model her behavior after, as a human. And the gang as they were, were not always the best example.

And that was probably true for Faith as well, she decided with a frown. After everything they had been through in school and with Wes and the Watcher's Council, the mayor, Faith had a long road ahead of herself. The fly by the seat of her pants plan that she had come up with this past weekend was a good start. She had seen in Faith's eyes that the brunette slayer suspected that Buffy was up to something, but she hadn't quite figured out the catch yet. And wasn't it sad, that for every move, Faith's first counter was suspicion?

"Hey, is this a private steam, or do you mind some company?" a familiar voice reached her through the slight haze of steam created by the door that had opened. Buffy's eyes popped open to see a figure moving closer and when the steam cleared enough, she smiled weakly.

"Sam, hey," she greeted him. He was similarly attired, in a towel, though it was wrapped much lower on the hips than hers, that covered her upper torso as well. He was barefoot, the towel reaching to just below his knees. But from what she could see of his body from her sideways angle, it was a very nice body... realizing her position, she snatched at the ends of her towel to make sure they were still together and levered herself to an upright position. "I didn't realize you came to this gym."

"Uh, first time, actually," he admitted and then gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. "If you'd rather not share, I can wait."

"Oh no!" she protested immediately, trying to scoff. "Don't be silly. We're both grown ups here and it's not fair to make you wait just 'cause the men's steam room is out of order."

"Okay," he grinned, moving carefully as he seemed to be debating the seating options. Finally, his hand gripping where his towel was folded in at the waistline, he chose the bench adjacent to hers. Buffy, while he was taking a seat, swung her legs off of the bench so that she could sit upright and still face him. The spot Sam had chosen put the hot rocks between them and it was kind of nice to have that barrier there.

"So your first time here?" she prompted. "Did you have a good work out?"

"Pretty good," he confirmed. "Worked up a bit of a sweat. Though it wasn't as spectacular as yours," he teased, his lips stretching into a wide smile and Buffy gaped at him for a moment. Then she buried her face in her hands.

"Oh God," she groaned. "Please tell me that no one else but you, the instructor and the rest of the yoga class saw that!"

"Um," he pressed his lips together, looking a little amused and more than a little contrite. "I really couldn't say..."

"Lovely," Buffy snorted gently. "Typical. Everyone saw Buffy take a nosedive. Or well, shoulder dive. That's what I get for zoning out. That's it!" she declared swiping her hands in a move reminiscent of a football referee. "No more zone out zone for me. It's a little too dangerous."

"Well, I can agree with that," Sam chuckled. "I can see in certain circumstances, zoning out isn't a good thing. But actually, I think more people were just... well, amazed at that pose. Have you been doing yoga long?"

"Uh," Buffy pulled her mind from the acute embarrassment she felt at being the center of unwanted attention and shrugged her shoulders, eliciting a soft grunt as she felt the pull of that muscle in her back. "Not long. Just naturally athletic, I guess."

"You know," Sam winced in sympathy, "you really should be putting ice on your shoulder."

"Yeah," she sighed, relieved to get on a better topic that she could handle. "And normally I would, but it wasn't that bad of a fall. Barely gonna bruise. If it's still sore after I get out of here, then I'll do that."

"Okay," Sam nodded slowly, "well, you know your own body better than I..." he trailed off and Buffy noted the sudden flush that rose in his face. It had nothing to do with the steam being produced, because neither of them had added more water to the rocks. Thinking of her own embarrassment and just feeling bad for the guy, because she'd had more than her share of verbal gaffes spill out of her mouth, she leaned forward to busy herself. Sam could have a generous moment to collect himself. The hiss and curl of steam that flew up from the tepid water on the hot rocks hid Sam's face for a moment and she smirked to herself as she heard his sound of relief.

"So, how was your weekend?" she asked after a moment.

"Pretty quiet," he answered immediately. "Got some work done. Visited with a few new friends from my classes. How was yours? Is your friend doing any better?"

"She is actually," Buffy spoke, considering that very topic. She knew he was referring to her cover story about why she had to go home. But it was still the truth. Faith, after Buffy's few attempts seemed to be feeling more confident and surer of her place among the Scoobies. "I mean, she's not a hundred percent through things, but..."

"But what?" he prompted gently. Buffy studied what she could see of his face through the haze and then sighed. He seemed to genuinely want to know.

"Okay, without betraying any confidences," she began and suddenly felt proud of herself. There were a lot of things she could hide from telling people, if she didn't end up blurting things out, under that heading. Other people's secrets. "Faith didn't have an easy life. And it still isn't. But we've really tried to help her, support her."

"Which only works as long as the other person lets you," Sam pointed out reasonably. Buffy grinned at that.

"Exactly! Thank you," she crowed. Sam ducked his head, but she could see the smile there. "Okay, so this weekend, or before, but anyway, her confidence in herself took a major hit. And it was already so... I mean, she's one of those brash kind of people, that, well..." she trailed off, having trouble trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for Faith without bringing the Slaying into it.

"Is she someone who covers up their emotions, especially the negative ones with bravado and aggression?" he asked carefully and Buffy sagged with relief. He had summed it up perfectly.

"You've known people like that too, huh?" she realized and Sam chuckled.

"My brother comes instantly to mind," Sam laughed. "But with Dean, there's also the comfort eating and inappropriate sexual innuendos and sometimes not even that, just blatant hedonism."

"Whoa," Buffy grinned. "Sounds like he and Faith might have been twins separated at birth. 'Cause I so could have lived my life without knowing that she popped Xander's cherry."

The shocked laugh that came out of his mouth had her clapping her hand over her eyes.

"I think I could've lived without knowing that as well," Sam half snorted. "Just glad I don't actually know these people."

"Just trying to say that they sound a lot alike," Buffy mumbled.

"Got that, thanks," Sam teased. "So you spent some time with Faith, trying to bolster her confidence in herself," he prompted, getting them thankfully back on topic.

"Yeah," Buffy agreed. It had been the little moments that had helped, along with a few big ones. Most notably, playing the dumb blond card so that Faith could make a few realizations on her own.

Specifically, when Faith had been the one to point out that Dracula had somehow gotten to Buffy. All of her friends had tried to explain her behavior away. But Faith hadn't toed the line on that one. And then, taking lead on heading up the gang, freeing Xander from whatever spell or most likely thrall that Dracula had put him under. The best moment though that popped immediately into Buffy's mind was after she had staked Dracula the first time. She had realized instantly that with all the years the Vamp had on him, there had to be a way he avoided getting dusted by Slayers. It seemed a little ridiculous in her head, what she was thinking and she had voiced it aloud to the group. Citing the movies based off of Stoker's novel and it had been Faith that had taken it up immediately, whirling around to run back to where they had left him, Buffy and the others hot on her heel. They had watched from the doorway as Faith got her slay on, taking him by surprise and a stake through the chest. They had all congratulated Faith, which she had tried to deflect, but Buffy had thanked her, quietly and seriously for not thinking she was flaking on the subject. The pride that had shone in Faith's eyes for just that brief moment was only matched by her bemusement as Dracula tried once more to reform.

"_Dude! We're friggin' standin' right here!"_

Faith's snorted words still brought a smile to her lips.

"It must have been good if it can make you smile like that," Sam complimented, a shy smile on his own face. Buffy's grin grew and she nodded.

"It wasn't so much that we talked things out," she explained. "Faith was never one for much talk. It was... like she knew all this stuff already and she just, I don't know, needed opportunities to realize it."

"And you gave her those opportunities," Sam supplied. "That's a good way of doing things I suppose. But what if she caught on?"

"Oh, I think she did, on some level," Buffy agreed immediately. Faith after all, might be naive in some areas, but she was a street smart kid that lived with a lot of hard knocks even before the slaying gig. "And it wasn't about proving she was smart, because we all know she is."

"So what was it about?" he asked softly, though Buffy got the sense that he already had figured it out. Why he wanted to hear it was a little bit of a puzzle, but Buffy was, well to put it bluntly, proud of herself for figuring it out.

"It was about acceptance," she spoke slowly while Sam gestured with the water can. She nodded and he added a little more of the tepid water to keep the steam going. "She's spent too long feeling like she was being judged and found lacking. And I think, in some ways, because we were such a tight knit group before she came along, that she thought she'd never fit it, so she went too extreme the other way. Dragged me along for a bit," she tried not to think on the death of the Deputy Mayor. But it was something she would never forget. "It's not just Faith that needed help. We all did. And hopefully we're on the right track."

"It sounds like you might be," Sam agreed. "Relationships, all of them are tricky things. Siblings, family, friends, all of that."

"I guess you'd know too, huh?" Buffy chuckled. "Given what you've told me about Dean."

"Yeah, I think I've thought enough about my brother for today," Sam grumbled good naturedly. "There's only so much of his crazy that I can take and stay sane myself."

"Oh, I know what you mean," she nodded and then winced slightly. She could feel the band aid that she had applied to where Dracula had bit her, sliding off. She reached up with her hand, knowing that the steam had made it impossible for the glue to adhere to her skin. She pulled it away even as she swept her hair over the injured area. It wasn't like it was huge, for a bite, but she didn't want to have to explain. Sam was waiting expectantly and she recalled what she had been thinking of before the band-aid had distracted her. "This weekend of course I stayed at my mom's. And my little sister Dawn about drove me nuts."

"How so?" Sam prompted and Buffy shrugged one shoulder. It was still difficult to pinpoint exactly what had bothered her so much about her sister, but the feelings had definitely been there.

"Well, I told them that I had come home to help Faith, just for the weekend," Buffy recounted slowly, wondering if he'd think her whiny and paranoid, like her friends had when she had mentioned it. "And even though I just saw Dawn recently, she was hanging off me, trying to follow me everywhere, just... always around. And I love her," she was quick to assure him, "I do, but it's not like this is the first time I've been away and then back. She was just... really clinging and annoying. I mean-!"

"I get it," Sam chuckled, holding one hand up. "Classic younger sibling stuff. You can still love your family, even when you want to tear their heads off in frustration."

"Exactly," she sighed with relief. "I suppose," she murmured, a little contemplative, "I guess there was a reason for Dawn to act the way she did, even if I can't see it."

"And are you annoyed at that, or at her, really?" Sam wondered aloud and she could see in his eyes, his face, how he wondered if he had pushed too far. She grinned at him.

"Both," she announced succinctly. "Definitely both." Her vehemence made them both laugh for a moment. "Oh, it's like I can still hear her whining in my head. Do you ever have that?"

"Hearing my brother in my head?" Sam clarified, even as he was nodding his agreement. "All the time, but..."

"Mmm, we talked about it in a psych class once," she mused. "The Jiminy Cricket thing. Mine sounds like my mom. But I thought then... those other voices, the ones not giving us the good advice? Did you ever think that maybe that we have these thoughts and impulses that we aren't quite ready to accept as not so savory facets of ourselves, so to make it bearable, we assign the blame to the other voices in our head. Like, 'oh, that's so totally what so and so would do'?"

"All the time," Sam repeated as he nodded and then grinned impishly at her. "But then, that would make you a whiny brat desperately trying to gain someone's attention, wouldn't it?"

"Just as much as it would make you a womanizing jerk know it all," she shot back and then widened her eyes about what she had just implied. But to her relief, Sam had started laughing.

"You've got my brother pegged all right," he smirked, shaking his head. "But, I really hope I'm not that... all the time." His quiet admission made her relax.

"Yeah, 'cause I can so totally admit that I can be whiny when I want to be, which thankfully, I think I've mostly grown out of," she teased. "And the attention thing, yeah. But I am not, nor have I ever been, a brat!"

"Something tells me that you just might've been," Sam teased again, leaning forward a little. "But then, I've had my moments too. As a mature grown up, I can admit it."

"Well, as long as we're honest with ourselves," Buffy murmured, feeling the attraction that she had tried to hide from Dracula last week to this man before her, growing in leaps and bounds once more.

"You know what I'm thinking?" Sam asked, his voice just slightly husky.

"What's that?" she whispered.

"I was thinking that I'm about done in for all this heat and that some cool liquid refreshment would be a good thing," he announced, but Buffy thought that she could hear a slight tremor in his voice. "And I was thinking..." he paused and she could definitely hear that tremor growing, "that maybe you'd like to join me? If you'd like."

She let her eyes go unfocused just slightly, as she realized... Sam was asking her out? Part of her was screaming, finally! The other was wondering if this really was a good idea. But before she could get that sorted quickly enough in her mind, Sam was stumbling over his words again.

"J-just as friends, you know," he added hastily. "I know you said-!"

Buffy pushed off from her seat on the bench and lifted one hand to put a finger over his lips. She wanted to quiver with the feel of the soft skin of his lips, made plump by the rampant hot moisture in the air. "Sam, I'd love to go get something to drink with you," she smiled sweetly and then, as he grinned up at her, pulling her finger away, she added under her breath. "Don't know about you, but I could really use a frozen yogurt right about now."


	9. Ice Cream Social

**Title: Approaching Normal**

Chapter Title: Ice Cream Social

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to BtVS or Supernatural. They are owned respectively by Whedon & Mutant Enemy and by Eric Kripke. No infringement is intended. This fiction is intended for private enjoyment only.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Crossover

Type: Friendship/ Romance

Pairing: Buffy/ Sam Winchester

Summary: At last they got the chance at a normal life that they thought they always wanted.

Spoilers/ Time line: Season 5 of Buffy (of sorts) and Pre Series for Supernatural.

Feedback: Always welcome!

Distribution: Ask first please.

A/N: This is written for the Jess? Who's Jess? challenge from the Twisting The Hellmouth site.

Chapter Nine

Ice Cream Social

Sam had watched the unfolding scene before him and wisely, waited. He'd found the free weights lining the wall and had begun working on his upper body strength, since before his mess up on the treadmill, he had actually managed to get a pretty decent run in. It didn't hinder the desire to do so, that the weights were where he could watch the comings and goings of people into the change rooms, he briefly admitted to himself. But he realized quickly several things. The first was that even though he was in pretty good shape still, he hadn't kept up the necessary repertoire to keep his muscles in the peak shape they'd been in before.

He knew that, it was obvious. Muscles unused were muscles lost and it had to be a constant progression, not half hearted training here and there. The immediate burn as he picked up the weights and carefully curled his arms back and forth was testament to that. It meant, in Sam's mind, that he wasn't going to be able to pick up where he had left off. Some thought and modification to what he had used to be able to do was in order. But still, a small run through was beneficial.

Especially since he could keep an eye out for Buffy, when she emerged from the women's changing room. Thoughts and plans ran through his mind. Ways to get her attention, quietly, politely, of course. He wasn't the type to yell her name and bring the attention of the entire room to bear upon them. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized again that like he had thought earlier, she hadn't come here to be hit upon, just like he hadn't. Anonymity was anyone's right, when they weren't using that to plan or execute a crime. Ambushing her like that wasn't cool and as much as he wished he could, he liked Buffy too much to try that desperate sneak attack. At this juncture anyway.

And it seemed he was to be doomed to disappointment when he put the weights away after wiping them down. She hadn't re-emerged as yet, which could have been attributed to many factors. Perhaps her shoulder was troubling her or she was taking an extra long shower. Perhaps there was a back door out of the building that Sam hadn't noted, so that women didn't have to walk back through the main floor. Men too, he supposed, if he wanted to get politically correct about it.

With a sigh, Sam thought about the rest of the day. There was dinner that evening that he might see her. Perhaps she might find solitude in the library to work on her assignments. Or there was their shared class later in the week. All those possibilities that should be good enough for him. The sharp pang of disappointment in his stomach told him that it wasn't, but he was determined for logic to win out over the measly hormones fueling many of his thoughts. Deciding, as he made his way into the men's locker rooms, that he wasn't really looking forward to going back to his dorm room, he decided that he'd indulge in a steam before his shower.

It was only after he had changed that he saw the notice on the door that the men's room was undergoing repairs. He read the instructions and with a slightly grimacing frown, headed over to the ladies sauna. He knocked on the door before trying it, just to make sure that he wasn't intruding. The door was open and he stepped in, realizing in an instant that there was a single occupant. The ratcheting up of his heart, his breathing, his nerve endings tingling when he took in the distracted form of the object of his crush had him blushing before the door even clanged shut behind him.

By miraculous good fortunes, angel's smiled down on him as Buffy encouraged him to stay. As a gentleman he was perfectly willing to wait. And the feelings of unease about her absence, the fears of ineptitude around the female of the species, it all receded as they talked and to Sam, it was as if more than the very heat in the air had invaded his entire being, warming him pleasantly.

They talked, teased, joked and turned introspective in their turns. And every time she smiled or nodded, agreeing with something he had said, he felt the attraction and desire to spend more time with her growing. Even when she had espoused her bad traits with teasing, he found it endearing rather than annoying. At last, the words could no longer be contained and he asked her out. True, it was for coffee or something of the like, and after what seemed to be her refusal, something changed and she was smiling up at him, accepting and Sam was elated.

Which was how they had come to decide that they would each quickly shower, change and meet at the front doors.

Eying the clock above the front desk from his position just to the side of the front door, Sam pushed the still damp mop of hair from his eyes. He knew that she might take a little longer than he had. As eager as he was for even this initial date of just coffee, he really had rushed through his routine. Dressed in the loose jeans, dark blue t-shirt and a lighter button up, left loose and untucked, with the sleeves rolled part way up his forearms, he hoped he passed muster. He was hoping to appear casual, because he was still unsure as to the reception of how Buffy felt about it all. Dating... with Sam...

He still could not recall from their first class, what she had said about friends or dating, if anything at all. And he didn't want to rush her. It was one of the few times that he regretted not having more experience with girls, or women. He could swear that she had been flirting with him. And his talk with Brady had helped him understand her more. But that was an outsider's view. One that cam from someone that admitted he wasn't quite in her inner circle. Sam was seriously debating tucking his shirt in and finding some water to slick his hair back with. But then wondered if that would look like he was trying too hard.

Fifteen minutes more from his arrival at the main desk had elapsed before he finally caught sight of her. And though she had looked delectable in her yoga outfit and he fought a blush as he tried to avoid thinking about her in just a towel, sweat gleaming on her sun bronzed skin in the sauna, at the moment she looked like the perfect epitome of a California girl. And she was so simply dressed, with a lavender spaghetti strapped top and jean skirt with a little flare around the knees. Her hair was held back with a little kerchief almost the same color as her top and she was wearing sandals. At that point, Sam was glad he had stayed casual.

She was adjusting the strap on her messenger bag as she came around the corner and passed the front desk. Luckily she looked up or she might have plowed into several people making their way to the back. Sam's heart picked up when her gaze went up and then darted around before lighting on him and she hurried her steps just a little as she made her way to him.

"Hey there," she greeted, sounding slightly breathless. "Sorry I took so long. Figured you might get bored waiting."

"Oh, not at all," Sam assured her quickly and pushed back the bangs that were threatening his eyesight once more. "I don't bother drying my hair after a shower," he informed her and wanted to smack himself with the inanity of it, realizing that the segue wasn't well planned. "Because it tends to fall in my eyes more," he explained. Her eyebrows were rising and she looked amused. "So," he continued, slightly flustered, "that cuts time off of getting ready, hence why I was willing to wait, since I realize not everyone else has hair like mine."

"Or the rambly explanation of said hair care routine," Buffy teased and as if of one accord, Sam reached for the door just as Buffy started moving towards it. "But I know a few good ramblers. Sometimes the ramble is as much fun or even more fun than the drunken spiel."

"Well, since most drunken spiels I've been subject to end up with insults, vomiting or snoring, sometimes all three," Sam chuckled, "I think I'll stick with rambling."

"Good choice," Buffy nodded importantly as they stepped out into the warm afternoon sun. She paused momentarily to pull some sunglasses from her bag.

"Speaking of choices," Sam added quickly as he waited for her, "I asked and there's a coffee shop down the street."

"Uh huh," Buffy nodded and then waited.

"Or," Sam grinned, hoping that his instinct on this paid off, "the Baskin Robbins a block over has been introducing it's fall flavors and selling off the last of it's summer ice cream stock. Might be the last chance..." he trailed off.

"Oooh, meanie," Buffy groaned theatrically. "Tempting me with... oh, ice cream wins!"

"Ice cream it is then," Sam announced with a laugh. "It's okay though. We did just go through grueling work outs. And it is a Monday."

"Very true," Buffy nodded. "And my yoga instructor did tell me to ice my shoulder."

"Somehow I don't think that's what she meant," Sam shook his head, still grinning widely. Buffy shrugged both shoulders and he noted that she didn't seem to be wincing with pain at the movement. Perhaps it wasn't as bad as he had thought, even if she had fallen on it.

"Ice... ice cream," Buffy waved her hand in the air. "Fuels my body so my muscles can heal. I'd say it's just the right kind of medicine." She wrinkled her nose, glancing up at him. "Have we rationalized enough?"

"Just enough," Sam nodded importantly, as if they'd made a world class decision. "Besides," he added, "should we feel guilty, we can always order off the diet menu."

"Uh, that's like ordering decaf when what you really want is a mocha latte with a tower of whipped cream," she protested. Sam, still towering over her, smiled as she shook her head in protest and the scent of a vanilla based shampoo or perfume drifted to his nose.

Their teasing banter continued as they made their way to the ice cream shop. There was a small line and as they waited, they debated the flavors that were available in the store. For Sam, ice cream had always been a once in a while treat with their family. When he divulged that little secret, Buffy had seemed shocked. But then, living in the heat of California all her life, it was a perennial favorite. And apparently something of a necessity after her parents' divorce. When the low fat frozen yogurt came out, and became incredibly popular, that joined the repertoire in her mother's home. She was just describing to Sam how she and her sister had a calculated system of trying each and every flavor in the stores when they were younger, when their turn at the counter came.

"Hi, welcome to Baskin Robbins," their server, a well groomed young man in the pink, blue and white uniform asked from behind the glass partition of the frozen section, greeted. "How may I serve you today?"

Buffy deliberated for only a moment before asking about several of the flavors. Sam listened with half an ear, thinking about his own choice, until finally, she decided upon the Love Potion 31. He ducked his head to hide the smirk on his face. It seemed like she might be saying something with her choice and it cemented his own decision.

"And you sir?" the young man turned to Sam after presenting Buffy with a small cone of the white chocolate and raspberry mixture.

"I'll take a double scoop of the Wild 'n Reckless, please," he ordered and then smirked down at Buffy. Her answering grin as they indulged themselves was worth the potentially neon tongue he'd have for the rest of the day.

Sam, commenting on some of the different flavors that they had, engaging Buffy with encouraging her to describe some of her other favored flavors, managed to edge himself down the line a little. The server had produced Buffy's cone first and then Sam's, but he was closer to the register and had it paid for while Buffy was still trying to manage digging through her bag one handed without dropping her cone.

"My treat," he reminded her when she looked up. She looked as if she were about to argue, but then simply smiled.

"Thank you Sam."

"So, do you want to grab a table or..." he offered.

"Nnnh," Buffy deliberated, glancing around the enclosed shop as they moved out of the way of the next customers. "Why don't we head to the park down the street? Lot's of benches and picnic tables there."

"I wouldn't know," Sam admitted easily as they headed to the door, stopping only to grab some extra napkins. "But it sounds good. Have you been out to the lake at all?" He knew from what Brady had told him, that she had been to a party down there the year before. A low keyed affair, in which she sat off mostly by herself, watching the others and the water alternately. Sounded like something he would do himself in that situation.

"I have," Buffy nodded. "Not really big on the nightlife down there though. Like I said before, Buffy and beer, non mixy things. And being such, I'm thinking anything alcoholic is of the no good."

"Gotcha," Sam nodded as he followed her lead, trying to ignore her darting pink tongue that was scooping up small laps of ice cream. He tried his own, finding it tasty, despite the wild colors. "Do you go during the day often then?"

"Not to the lake so much," Buffy nodded minutely. "But I've enjoyed the beach whenever I get the chance. I felt bad because I missed my friend's back to school beach barbecue, but then Wills told me about this huge freak storm that came up suddenly." She chuckled and tilted her head towards him. "They got drenched."

"Sounds like it was eventful," he agreed with a chuckle himself. He knew that they were drawing close to the park by the noises of children shouting. "Do you come down here often?" Before she could reply, he added quickly, "because I always liked being able to find someplace quiet, for example, away from my brother, to study or read."

"I do," she told him. "Though I don't study down here. Too many kids and Frisbees. And dogs and stuff. But I do like to walk through later, after the kids all seem to have gone to bed. It's pretty, soothing in a sort of way."

So she liked the beach during the day, nature walks at night, Sam decided with a grin. He could work with that. Especially, he realized, since she had given him an in with accepting ice cream. And checking his cone quickly, noticed that he'd better put in a little more work if he didn't want it melting all over his hand. They continued in silence, skirting around the playground equipment until they were a good distance away from the shrieks that seemed capable of shattering an eardrum up close. Buffy swept her messenger bag over her head and carefully over the cone still in her hand before taking a seat. Sam was able to simply set his duffel on the ground next to the bench before following after her.

"So aside from homework," Buffy began, "anything interesting happen around here while I was gone?"

Sam brightened at her question, even though really, there was nothing to tell. It was just a glimmer of happiness that she had asked. "Not really," he admitted on a swallow. "Of course, I wasn't out and about. I did get together for dinner at the cafeteria with some friends from another class. Maybe you know some of them."

"Oh? Like?" she asked, perking up slightly. Sam listed off some of the names he remembered, for some reason though he was hesitant to mention Brady. He wasn't sure what to think because of the conversation they had had and insecurity rearing it's head about them being close friends. Perhaps. But Buffy kept shaking her head, a slight frown on her face and finally pulled out the last name. "What about Brady Craessar?"

"Nu-!" she began and then frowned. "Yeah, sounds familiar. Maybe I met him at a party?" she didn't sound so sure and Sam breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "Sorry," she grinned up at him, "just not that great with names. Especially the Greek and Latin ones."

"You know people with Latin names?" Sam laughed. That was a new twist, but she was shaking her head.

"No, no, from high school," she sighed. "We'd get bored after school and look through the librarian's stash. He had all sorts of interesting books. Of course, the school board didn't always think so."

"Oh right," Sam nodded, grinning himself silly. "Your friend Xander, right?" he recalled having heard something to do with that male and books.

"Unh huh," Buffy nodded, sounding slightly dour. "I think he's doing better now, what with the full time girlfriend that's just slightly crazy enough to keep him distracted."

"Uh oh, crazy how?" he wondered. Strange, but his internal senses didn't go off, he realized belatedly. Had anyone else said something like that and before, he'd be full of suspicions. Buffy shrugged and then laughed over something she must have been thinking of.

"Her name is Anya and she worships at the altar of bluntness," Buffy told him dryly. He blinked slowly at her and then shook his head. "Not seriously," she added suddenly. "Like with the worship and the slaughtering of innocent bunnies, though maybe with her fear..." Sam was trying to keep up and wasn't, which Buffy seemed to realize in an instant.

"Sorry," she grinned and straightened slightly, like she was being serious now. "I mean, when I say blunt, I mean brutally blunt. I blurt things out occasionally, but it happens. Anya? Completely different story. There is absolutely no filter on her mouth. She loves Xander, money and regaling us with stories of all the men she's-!" she stopped short, her hand coming up to her mouth, looking a little shocked at herself before she gulped and then grinned. "There's that blurting thing again."

"No, it's okay," Sam hastened to reassure her. "Stories of men..." he prompted and she rolled her eyes, busying herself with her ice cream cone a moment.

"Okay, not to carry tales out of school," she admitted, "but there have been... a lot of not good relationships in Anya's past. And she was... very creative in punishing those guys that she thought were in the wrong."

Sam nodded slowly again. "Is she one of those types that keys cars, makes horrible prank calls, or makes a guy's life hell if he crosses her?" he wondered with a wince. He had always worried that his brother would fall in with a girl like that if they ended up staying in a town for more than a few weeks at a time. Lord knew, Dean had come too close on several occasions.

"Pretty much," Buffy nodded. "I kind of wondered if that's why Xander never broke up with her. But... then again, they never really started dating." She chuckled again. "Neither one of them had a date for prom, so they went together. She left town after for a while, came back and decided that she liked the way they worked together and they've been together since."

"So obviously something is right with them," Sam mused. Buffy shrugged one shoulder.

"Better than my high school relationships worked out," she expressed and then smirked. "Actually, Faith, my jilted friend, before we were really friends? She had my back on one. There was this guy, Scott Hope. I thought he was an absolute sweetheart. Turns out he was a bit of a jerk. I thought he was going to ask me to senior homecoming, but he dumped me right before and took another girl. Another old friend, Cordelia and I were riding together in a limo that our friends had arranged for us, since we were both candidates for homecoming queen. Limo broke down, of course, so I didn't see it all go down. Well, Faith told me later that she walked up to where Scott was dancing with his date, got right between them and told him point blank that the results from the doctor were back and that he needed to keep using the ointment and everything would be fine."

"Oh no, she didn't!" he couldn't help laughing, this time able to keep up with the rambling additions to the main story. Buffy nodded, even as she dabbed at her lips with a napkin, her eyes shining with amusement as well.

"Guess she dropped him like a hot poker," she concurred. "Faith doesn't have much of a filter either and I-!" she stopped abruptly was staring off in the distance for a moment, until Sam followed her gaze. But he couldn't see anything that he thought might be a cause for concern and turned back to her.

"Buffy?" he asked gently and watched as she blinked suddenly.

"You know, I just realized that like ninety percent of my friends in high school were really, really blunt, sarcastic or rebels, or even all three," she told him with a bemused look on her face. Sam, relieved that it had just been a sudden bout of realization and not worry over her time with him, relaxed.

"And where do you fit in?" he wondered aloud, teasingly.

"Oh, I'm a rebel," she nodded solemnly. "Even got the jacket to prove it."

"I'll bet you do," Sam murmured. And then she turned the tables on him, wondering what kind of stereotype Sam was precisely during his high school years. He was almost hesitant to tell her, the bookish, nerdish, loner. But not by his choice.

But it was almost as if she had some inner sense in that she already knew and seemed to be looking for confirmation. The questions she asked were amazingly subtle for someone who was a self confessed blurter of strange thoughts or facts. Nonetheless, Sam enjoyed actually relating some more of his junior high and high school stories to her. And since his father and brother had kept him in the dark and out of hunting for as long as they were able to, most of the stories were relatable to the non-hunting portion of the world. He had to chuckle though.

"What's so funny?" Buffy asked, her grin still wide after his telling of another disastrous attempt of Dean trying to date with Sam tagging along. He'd had to or John would have rained hell down on Dean's head for leaving his brother alone.

"It's just," Sam began, glancing off in the distance, surprising himself with the revelation. "I didn't think, until I started actually thinking about it, that I had this many stories."

"Well," Buffy's grin faded as she became a little more serious, hooking her elbow over op the back of the park bench they were seated on. The sunglasses that she had removed once they were seated, dangling from her fingers. "I think everybody does. But since you know all the stories, and they're about you or people close to you, they aren't stories. It's your life, you know? And they only become stories when you tell them to someone else. Someone new."

"Yeah, that's a good way of looking at it," Sam nodded. "And they tend to take on aspects of a tale, don't they?"

"Yes," Buffy nodded and then chuckled. "Because that girl wasn't that whiny, was she? Because how could your brother put up with that? Especially with you tagging along? Was he that sure of getting in her pants that he... never mind," she chuckled again. "I don't think I want to know."

Sam grinned again. Trying to adopt a serious mien he glanced up at the sky and sighed. "I'm trying to think. Sorry, but it was years ago and I mean, maybe it was the tone of her voice or something, but I think seriously, yeah, she was that whiny." Buffy shook her head.

"Girls like that are what gives girls like me a bad name," she frowned and then perked up again as Sam wondered what she meant. "The 'only whiny when it really counts' types," she explained. "You know, like when someone holds back the Christmas presents just to see someone squirm. Or when the little sister runs to Mom to win any argument under the sun."

"Oh we couldn't do that," Sam interjected. "With Dad, we figured out pretty quick that he'd punish the wrong doer and then the other one for tattling."

"Something tells me that you were the tattler the majority of the time," Buffy smirked and Sam gave her his best innocent smile.

"Now, why would you think that?" he demanded lightly.

"Well, I would tell you," Buffy sighed, as she turned the arm that was resting on the bench to glance at her wristwatch, "but unfortunately, I have some things to do before classes tomorrow."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Sam immediately apologized, glancing at his own watch. It was getting close to half past five. "I didn't realize. Yeah, I've got a few things to do as well."

"I did have a great time though," Buffy assured him as they stood. She rotated her injured shoulder without lifting her arm. "And the ice cream was definitely the right course of treatment."

"Well thank goodness for that," Sam stated as he leaned over to reach for his duffel bag. "I'd hate to think that you were going home in worse shape than when you left."

"It wouldn't be the first time," Buffy offered dismissively as together, they began to walk back to the main sidewalk, across a long expanse of grass. "But, I am a little disappointed about something."

Sam, who had relaxed to the point that his nervousness and desire to impress her in some way had begun to take a back seat to everything else, reared it's very dangerous head. With a slightly muted gulp, he asked carefully, "what was that?" The words almost stuck in his throat as he tried not to stare down at the petite woman at his side as they walked.

"We totally skipped over coffee in favor of the ice cream," Buffy shrugged. "And don't get me wrong. Loved the ice cream. But I think we ought to have given the coffee a fair shot. What d'ya say? My treat next time?"

"You want...?" Sam began as his mind tried to process what she was saying. She wanted another date? With him?

"I know this really nice cafe," she continued and he saw her eye squinting a little as she tried to read his reaction and he quickly smoothed his face out, giving her a brilliant smile. Her quick sigh of relief as he did so was a balm to the worries and they settled once more, keeping his stomach from roiling with the stress. "They aren't like a Starbucks that throws together everything by company formula. Is that something you'd be interested in?"

"Well, something tells me that you probably have a better idea about the coffee shops around here than I do," Sam agreed, striving to keep his stride short and even. "So I'd be a fool not to take advantage of that expertise when offered, wouldn't I?" He hoped that she could hear the teasing in his voice and evidently she did as she shook her head and giggled.

"There's something for my eventual resume, huh?" Buffy clucked. "Add that to my amazing stint as a diner waitress when I was seventeen and look out world!"

"Wait," Sam mockingly gasped. "You worked at a diner? Wow, I ate at a diner once. We must have so much in common!"

Buffy gaped at him for a moment. The jocularity was slightly abnormal, Sam realized, for him and then she was laughing again as they reached the cement pavement next to the park. "Please," she finally gasped. "You haven't been in Cali that long to become that corrupt."

"I know," Sam nodded, ducking his head slightly, as his long dried bangs fell into his face again. But before he could do anything about it, he felt just the wisp of Buffy's tiny finger's catching the hair to push it back behind his ear. It was strange having a girl doing that, though he could clearly remember Dean doing that in an attempt at the sincere romantic guy, to a beautiful girl of course. Not to Sam because that would have been weird, even for them. But Buffy, she didn't look like she was attempting anything. The smile on her face was genuine.

"So, uh..." he cleared his throat and they resumed walking without having to gesture or ask. "You actually did work in a diner?"

"Yeah," Buffy nodded. "Which is the least painful part of a long and painful story from my past."

"Okay," Sam acknowledged. True, everyone had to have stories like that and just like he wasn't prepared to be sharing certain secrets, he was pretty sure that Buffy must feel the same way. "So I'll ask instead, when did you feel like getting coffee?"

"Oh, that's much easier," Buffy nodded, seemingly grateful that he let her off the hook so easily. "I'm pretty tied up the next few days, playing catch up with some non school things, on top of the actual school things like classes and a meeting with my faculty advisor. I have Thursday night and Friday afternoon free. What's good for you?"

"Anything is fine for me, as lone as I work it around my class schedule," Sam agreed, thrilled at the chance for even more time to spend with her.

"Well, how about we figure it out at class on Thursday?" Buffy offered and Sam found himself agreeing. Of course, he spent the rest of their walk back to Buffy's dorm room alternately wishing that time could slow down or really speed up.

That lasted until the moment they reached her dorm and she said good bye to him with a promising smile. And then it was all he could do not to beg any God he could think of to speed that time up until that moment she walked into class Thursday morning and he could see her once more.


	10. Gather The Gang

**Title: Approaching Normal**

Chapter Title- Gather The Gang

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to BtVS or Supernatural. They are owned respectively by Whedon & Mutant Enemy and by Eric Kripke. No infringement is intended. This fiction is intended for private enjoyment only.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Crossover

Type: Friendship/ Romance

Pairing: Buffy/ Sam Winchester

Summary: At last they got the chance at a normal life that they thought they always wanted.

Spoilers/ Time line: Season 5 of Buffy (of sorts) and Pre Series for Supernatural.

Feedback: Always welcome!

Distribution: Ask first please.

A/N: This is written for the Jess? Who's Jess? challenge from the Twisting The Hellmouth site.

Chapter Ten

Gather The Gang

"Look pretty darn good if I do say so myself," Buffy announced happily, preening before her mirror as she smoothed her clothes. Once satisfied, she pushed the closet door, with the full length mirror hung inside, shut and moved over to her dresser to find the earrings that matched her outfit.

She studiously ignored the fact that instead of dressing comfortably, in her typical attire of jeans or slacks with a pretty top, she had sassed it up just a little bit. She wasn't above dressing for a little appreciation. She had no difficulty dressing the part when she went out slaying. Looking small, entirely feminine, and helpless was her best offense for putting those guys off their game. Maybe it was true for regular old males too. And even though, she was pretty sure that Sam had noticed her, she liked to think she could make him sit up and _notice_ her.

Poking through the collection of jewelry sitting in the top compartment of the box her father had given her for her twelfth birthday, Buffy allowed the smile that had been overtaking her face all morning to glow once more. She heard her cell phone going off in her purse and pulled out the earrings she wanted before dashing to check and see who it was.

Her grin grew when she saw that it was Willow. Flipping open the cell, she pulled it up to her ear. "Mornin' Wills," she chirped happily. "Can you hang for a sec? Gotta put my hoops in."

"I'm hanging," Willow responded. Buffy heard her murmuring to someone on her end, assumed it was Tara, her girlfriend and dorm mate this year. That arrangement was convenient in more ways than one Buffy decided, chuckling to herself as she carefully set the phone down and deftly applied her earrings. She grabbed it up again and brought the phone to her ear.

"Okay, I'm back," she announced. "What's up bestest o' my best buds?"

"Wow, someone's in a good mood today," Willow laughed. "Get up on the right side of someone's bed or didja actually have to patrol and get lucky last night?"

"No, none of that," Buffy denied. "Just good moody today. Heading for breakfast. What about you?"

"We're cafeteria bound too," Willow informed her. "Tara and I. Sounds like Xander had to be up and early for work. So he won't be joining us."

"That's okay," Buffy nodded as she lifted up her messenger bag. Even were it stuffed, she'd barely noticed the weight. She exited her dorm room, smiling and waving at familiar faces as they passed by one another. She noted that the Phi Beta Kappa house was posting for a weekend party. Holding out her hand, she was handed the obligatory flyer. She gave the poster of the material an appreciative grin and received one and a slightly leering wink in return. Maybe Sam would like to go. He hadn't said anything about joining a fraternity, but you never knew. She had toyed briefly with the idea, a sorority or something, but past experience told her that it would be a disaster. Hell, just remember the cheerleading. Both times were example enough for her. Enough said.

But so far in her experience, the house hosting the party, on this campus, unlike some other chapters were pretty low key guys. Their parties hadn't really gotten out of hand until the witching hour and if Sam did indeed want to go, they could always slip out to the coffee house for an even mellower locale.

"Did I lose ya there Buff?" Willow demanded, calling her attention back to the phone call.

"Oh, sorry Will, was just checking the board," she told her friend as she folded the bright blue paper and slipped it into an outer pocket of her messenger bag. "Anything exciting coming up for you guys?"

"Oh, well, if Xander survives this week at work, we were going to go to the Bronze on Friday or Saturday," Willow announced. "Other than that, not much. We were gonna go Thursday after our test in anthropology, but your mom needed a babysitter. So Xan and Anya are busy."

"Oh, Dawnie'll love that," Buffy half snorted as she wound her way through the common area on her way to the front door of the hall. It was no secret that Dawn had had a crush on Xander for like, ever. It seemed though, that in his quest to make money and since Buffy wasn't around to do it, Joyce had turned to Xander for child watching duties quite a bit. Even with a steadier job, he still jumped when one of the older Summer's women asked for a helping hand.

"What about you?" Willow wondered. "Dare we hope you'll be coming home two weekends in a row?"

"Mm, it'd be nice," Buffy sighed, though she wasn't regretful at all. Trips home tended to be a little too eventful for her mind these days. "But I'm thinking I might have plans this weekend."

There was a muffled sound and a little squealing, causing Buffy to smile. And then Willow was back, sounding forcibly calm. "And might you be going out somewhere?"

"I might be thinking about it," Buffy teased, knowing perfectly well what conclusions Willow was looking to reach.

"And might you also be thinking there could be a guy going out to the same place that you'd be going?" she hinted heavily.

"Well gee Wills," Buffy snorted delicately. "Since it's a party at the Kappa house, I'm pretty sure there'll be plenty of guys there."

"Oh," Willow definitely sounded a little let down and Buffy pressed her lips together to keep from chuckling at her friend trying to still live vicariously through Buffy smoochies. Even as much as she had her own smoochable in the form of Tara, Willow still liked seeing her friend happy. And that was perfectly fine with Buffy. After the tough first year apart at different colleges, they'd learned a lot about each other and Buffy liked to think that their friendships were stronger for it.

"Well that's okay," Willow finally sighed. "Fun can still be had."

Buffy decided to take pity on her friend and nodded, even though Willow couldn't see it. "Especially if Sam says he'll go with me." The expected squeals of happiness were almost deafening.

"I knew it! I knew it," Willow squealed into the phone so loudly that Buffy really had to pull her own away. "Didn't I tell you that she wouldn't have said if she didn't and she definitely did. And I knew I should have pulled her away. I-!" There was a sudden cessation and Buffy figured it for one of two things. Either someone had gagged Willow, or they had taken the phone away.

Turned out it was Option C. Willow was slightly breathless when she came back to the conversation. "Sorry, Tara had to go talk to a professor about her class. She'll be back soon."

_'Way to hush up Wills,'_ Buffy giggled mentally to herself. She hadn't thought about how the more gentle natured Tara that she had gotten to know better over the summer, would apply the rest of the Scoobies theories to a practical application. "She kissed you good there, huh Wills?"

"Just a smidge," Willow declared smugly. "But I have my smoochies. I wanna hear about yours. There have been smoochies, haven't there?"

"Nuh," Buffy groaned, remembering with vivid detail how plump and kissable Sam's lips had been when they had been together in the sauna. "No," she clarified as she heard her friend chuckle. "We've just had our first accidental date yesterday. I don't know. Can you call getting ice cream after working out, a date?"

"Who asked?" Willow immediately wanted to know.

"He did," she answered easily as she wound her way down the sidewalk, avoiding people scattered about just as easily as the conversation flowed. "Actually he asked if I wanted to get coffee, but then he tempted me with Baskin Robbins."

"Oh, he's good!" Willow announced positively. "You've only known him how long and he already picked up on the caffeine and the iced treat goodies?"

"Since the first day of school," Buffy affirmed. "He almost ran into me because he was lost. I felt bad for him, remembering last year."

"Sunday," Willow spoke and Buffy could just see her in her mind's eye, nodding importantly. That Vampire had been set up too long and was set in her ways. But her ways worked very well, convincing lonely and away from home for the first time college students into her gang, or her stomach.

When Faith had run into a guy that was lost after patrol, she'd helped him find his way and felt pretty good about herself. She'd even saved him from Sunday and her gang's attack. Since Faith wasn't a college student, that tact hadn't worked on her. But the fish out of water angle had, and she had gotten down pretty hard on herself. When Giles had found the note that Sunday's vamps had left in her motel room, he had called the group together. But Faith had already worked out the modus operandi and was getting busy with the tracking and the kicking of Sunday's ass. Buffy had been proud of her sister slayer. It had also led to finding Faith a more defensible location, one that wasn't the Mayor supplied apartment. There were just too many bad memories there.

"I'm just glad that she wasn't here," Buffy sighed. They had talked about it already, she and Willow, as well as a minor heart to heart with Faith, but the first few weeks of Stanford had been almost a nightmare for her. "Anyway, date or no?"

"Well, snackage after working out is kind of expected, so..." Willow sounded unsure of the protocol and Buffy took pity on her.

"We bumped into each other at the gym," she supplied. "And he asked."

"So that's definite date," Willow sounded excited again. "Not an extension of activity. That's a definite let's go away from here and be alone and be doing or having something fun while we get to know each other better!"

"We definitely did that," Buffy laughed, remembering bits and pieces of their conversation.

"On the first date? Buffy Anne, I'm shocked," Willow teased.

"Hey hey now," Buffy chided, a gleam in her eye even though her friend couldn't see it. "There was no nakedness. Just near nakedness."

"Buffy!"

"Ha, gotcha!" Buffy threw out triumphantly. "Who's got the dirty mind now Willow?"

"You were... on the first date!"

"No Wills," Buffy sighed, relieved that Xander wasn't around to pester all the wrong details our of their mutual friend. "We bumped into each other in the sauna. Because the men's was out of order. We were both... clothed, sort of."

"Oh wow," Willow breathed out noisily. "So what else happened?"

Buffy continued on her way, moving towards the closest dining hall. She also continued dropping little tidbits of her time with Sam, date or not. Things he said or did. The dissection of Sam Winchester and how he might feel about Buffy, continued mostly through breakfast and it was only when Tara had returned to Willow's end, that the conversation turned and Willow suddenly wanted to know the all important question.

"So what about you?" Willow demanded gently. "Is Sam in the yes column of Buffy's list for dateable guys."

Buffy was quiet for a moment. She frowned down at her plate that was mostly empty. Granted, aside from a few routine stakings, and the whole thing with Dracula, the scene at Stanford was quiet enough for her not to be the Slayer every second, every moment. This was part of the reason that she had convinced everyone that she could go, get away.

And talking with Sam, it was... easy. There were taboo topics of course, for both of them, but that was true in any relationship. Especially a new one. It just seemed like when she talked to Sam, even if there had been awkward moments, they weren't truly awkward. Like those times when you couldn't even meet a person in the eyes after. Sam just... got it. And truthfully, Buffy liked being got.

"Yeah Will," she finally answered. "I think I'm gonna say definite oh yeah to Sam!"

"Tingles," Buffy muttered to herself as she stalked through the alley of a slightly run down business center. "Why do they always gotta give me tingles?" she wondered. "And not the right kind either."

She had read the newspaper, more because she actually liked knowing what was going on, rather than for the obituaries these days. It was a habit she had picked up from an assignment in one of her classes. So when she had seen the article about the attack down here, she had sort of skimmed over it, until her brain caught up with her eyes and those darn key words jumped out at her.

_Damage to the victim's neck..._

Reading over the article, and then checking the resulting obituary, Buffy had pieced enough together to know she was most likely dealing with a Vampire. Therefore, as soon as the sun had gone down that afternoon, she'd made her way to the crime scene. The cops had already thoroughly swept it, but there were signs and clues that they had no clue about that told her a more complete story.

There hadn't been any Vamps in the immediate vicinity, but she had seen more than enough places to make a good nest for an enterprising bloodsucking creature of the night. As she continued to widen her search pattern, Buffy had felt the suddenness of cramping in her lower abdomen. Her eyes had widened, since that wasn't supposed to happen for a few weeks. And then, her mind reminded her, that this was the sort of early warning system that was her initial call sign when she had first started slaying back in Los Angeles.

As she had followed the pain, and wasn't that a crappy kick in the metaphorical gut, Buffy realized several things. Working on the Hellmouth had brought a swift end to that physical indication. And she wondered if it were a natural advancement on her powers, when sensing the baddies had become this strange tingling sensation that told her the Vamps and other things were close. Because really, having cramps whenever evil surrounded you? On a Hellmouth, even a Slayer would be incapacitated by the severity of the cramps that would be a constant companion. But she also wondered, trying to remember if she had felt anything like this when Dracula had come around.

Was it because she had just come off a summer on the Hellmouth, relegating that physical clue to unnecessary again? Most likely it was, she decided with a frown. That frown only partly caused by the twisting muscles in her stomach. Well, one thing was for sure, she was going to stake the hell out of this one for more than principal. In fact, she just might get a little postal on this Vamp's-!

The scream that rang out into the quiet night had Buffy running full tilt towards it. The scene that she came upon was so familiar in it's nature that she was able to get right back into routine. The quip that distracted attention away from the would be victim. The realization that the Slayer was actually in Palo Alto and not Sunnydale as most would assume. The fight, the kill and then Buffy was able to turn her attention to the person that she had saved.

Tucking her stake into the inside pocket of her three quarter length coat, Buffy hurried forward to help the victim up. The woman, seemed dazed and with how close the Vamp had been, perhaps it was something more. She steadied the woman on her feet, reaching to brush the long dark hair back, obviously it had fallen loose from a clip or something.

"Professor Murray?" she realized and the teacher of her Women's Lit class blinked owlishly at her before reaching to press a hand to her bleeding neck.

"Buffy?" she muttered, as if just as surprised as the young blond woman before her. She glanced around the alley they were in. "What happened?"

"I uh, was about to ask you the same thing?" Buffy hesitated. She knew for sure that people on the Hellmouth would brush it off, transmute it into something else. She didn't have the same assurances here.

"I was... I think I was attacked," Professor Murray grumbled. "My purse..." she turned and looking around, the teacher that she was propping up, saw the accoutrement laying on the ground. Making sure that Professor Murray was steady on her feet, Buffy kept one hand on the woman's back and leaned over to pick the purse up for her. "What are you..."

"I was out for a walk," Buffy told her quickly, hanging on to the purse until she was ready to take it. She eyed her teacher with a practiced eye. She was still woozy on her feet and the wounds the Vampire had made in her throat were still trickling. He'd had himself quite the meal before she had interrupted, recognizing the shock of blood loss. "I heard a scream and when I yelled, this guy just... dumped you and took off running."

"Oh," was the only murmuring reply she got before her professor finally succumbed to the faint that had been threatening to take her.

"Okay," Buffy grunted as the full weight of the woman fell into her arms. "Let's get you to a hospital Professor Murray."

In the end it was easier said than done. But it did get done and after Buffy had, with the help of a kindly stranger stopping in the middle of the street to help with the unweildy load, then dropping them at the emergency room, she had given a statement to the police.

Her accounting was vague, it was true. But given her assertion that she had heard the scream (true), had seen her teacher being attacked (true though not recognized until after the fact) and the perp had run (true, though towards her and not away from the scene) the cops just seemed happy that the victim had received help and medical attention. Even if they weren't so happy that she couldn't give them a complete physical description other than tall, kinda ugly, not well dressed. (All very true.)

And though not necessarily the best thing, but certainly a highlight for Buffy, the doctor was insisting that the professor stay overnight for observation and would not be taking class tomorrow.

That meant Buffy could definitely put operation 'ask Sam out for their coffee date' a little earlier than she planned. And that was an excellent thing.

Sam grinned the entire way to art appreciation. He'd been wondering if Buffy was looking forward to class as much as he was. He was still wary of her assertion that first day that it might not be something she stuck with. But he intended to milk those days that she was there. Otherwise, who knew what might happen.

As it turned out, he was a little early, which was all right by him. He chose the same seat that he had before and then, opening up the book he had brought with him, more for a prop than because he was interested in reading it yet again, Sam kept an eye on the door as professor and then students began to trickle in.

He didn't see Buffy yet, but had no reason to think that she wouldn't show. At one point, he even wished that he knew more people around campus, aside from Brady, who didn't have classes with Buffy. Knew people that were around her more, that Sam could be friendly with. Of course, he mentally snorted to himself, that was a little too stalkerish sounding if he would admit it.

But so far he was pleased with the progress so far. They had found some things in common, classes, extracurricular activities, sort of things within their familes. It wasn't exact Sam knew. But at least it was common ground, the annoying sibling part. And perhaps it was better that way, that they weren't exactly alike. It was more like balance. They brought understanding to the situation. Sam was pretty sure that Buffy had enjoyed their outing after meeting at the gym. He knew that it was a good sign that she had stuck around talking with him, well after their cones were finished. And she had asked him for the coffee they had intended to get. He just hoped they could work something with their schedules.

Feeling the crunch of starting college a little later than his cultural counterparts in some areas, Sam had gotten in as many classes as he could. Therefore, unlike others too, he had classes on Fridays. It wasn't so uncommon here, but there was quite a bit of drop off on Mondays or Fridays as students wanted party time or perhaps recuperation time. Of course, it was possible that they were using the time to study or catch up on coursework. It was possible.

"That must be a really good book," he heard and quickly glanced up.

"Buffy, hey!" he grinned and turned his hand over to show her. The worn cover of Harper Lee's To Kill A Mockingbird was faded in areas, but the name and title were still clearly visible. As Buffy slid into the seat next to him and dropped her bag to the floor between her feet, she reached for the book and smiled brilliantly.

"Your favorite," she noted and Sam felt a warm glow in his chest. Yes! She had just been distracted from their conversation by worry over her friend. That or she had a good memory. "You know, I do remember reading this, and then we watched the movie in class. It didn't mean much to me then, but on reflection, I think what impacted me most was Mrs. DuBose's struggle with her morphine addiction." She let loose of the book and Sam took it back, grinning like a fool. That sounded real, or very good research to impress, but either way he'd take it.

"I actually found that i could identify with all the characters at one point or another," he noted quietly amidst the conversation that filled the auditorium around them. "Guess it just depended what was going on in my life. Probably why I keep rereading it."

"Even that racist dad?" Buffy demanded lightly, her eyebrows going up. "Sorry, it's been a while. Can't remember his name."

"Even him," Sam nodded with a slight frown. "Though it wasn't so much the racism as it was the desire to try and eke something better out of life. He just went about it in a way that I've yet to sink to and hopefully never will."

"Good to know," Buffy's expression was slightly hard to read. She looked as if she were contemplating something, but Sam had to be honest. Of course he wasn't going to explain the complete circumstances behind that, but there it was. "You kind of remind me of this girl I knew and her boyfriend. They spent every cent they had to get matching tattoos. Could barely afford a slice of pie. But at least, they'd starve together, instead of alone, you know?"

Sam let out a slightly shocked chuckle. "That's a little extreme, don't you think. But maybe that's the point. You don't know how low you'd sink until you're going down, right?" He wondered for just a brief moment how they had gotten on to such a serious topic.

"Well, in the interest of not finding that out yet, I have a question," Buffy announced, the twinkle returning to her eyes. Sam was about to reply, but their professor called their class to attention and conversations ground to a halt.

Sam kept glancing at Buffy who was alternating between listening to their professor and checking her papers. Once or twice he thought that she might be glancing at him as well, but he never quite turned his face just slightly as his eyes slid her way to catch her in time. But he had the sense of being watched in a way that wasn't that threatening. In fact, it felt kind of... fun. Sam's lips quirked as he wondered if Buffy were in the same position as he. Glancing over to see if... Should he or shouldn't he? The urge to disregard what was going on around them and just continue to bask in the warmth that was Buffy was strong, and Sam was teetering on the edge of the all encompassing crush, as he had been for a while and not at all worried about going down.

"Winchester!" Professor Clements barked out and Sam, startled slightly, noted as he jumped just a little, that Buffy was chuckling, but so far no one else seemed to notice his gaffe. He waited for the question and when Clements continued to rifle through a few papers, grew confused before the professor looked up once more. Had he missed the question? "That leaves Abbot, Jamison, Norman and Winthrop. All right, buddy up people and once you've chit chatted, then I'll pass this list around. And don't worry, if there's an artist you all really want, I'll accept multiple reports or just write the name in. As long as it's recent people. Recent! Within the last hundred years!"

There was some laughter, though Sam was not among them. He was lost until he felt Buffy's hand on his arm. "Don't worry Sam, you're with me," she whispered quietly, leaning towards him. "Group research paper," she explained and Sam let out a quick sigh of relief. Students all over the auditorium were standing, carrying their bags as they reorganized themselves. Buffy waved at one of the students and the male began making his way up from the second row towards them. But then he stopped to talk to someone else.

Sam, still curious about the topic she had been about to bring up earlier, before class started, used the opportunity presented to him. "So you were going to ask earlier?" he prompted.

"Oh, right," Buffy nodded. "You know I usually have a class right after this, right?" she reminded him and Sam nodded. Her cheery grin widened. "Well, as it turns out, I have it on good authority that my next class is canceled. So I was wondering... are you up for getting that coffee? If you're free?"

Sam's lips curved automatically as well. This was sooner than expected or reasonably hoped for. The unresonable hopes had to be put down, because Sam could be logical about some things. There was no way that he'd refuse, since this was exactly what he wanted. But he was prevented from answering, when one of their classmates, presumably one of their foursome, dropped her bag in the row before them and knelt on the chair.

"So we're grabbing coffee after class?" the girl demanded. But before either could answer, she had lifted her hands to run through her hair and said through a yawn, "God! I could use a cup right this sec. Good plan."

"Well I-!" Buffy began, but seemed quite appalled at the girl's presumptiveness.

"Actually, we-!"

But Sam was cut off by the fourth apparent member of the group finally catching up as he had entered the row behind Sam and Buffy and jumping over the seats to land next to Sam. "Coffee after class? Works for me man," the guy announced. "My weekend is packed. The sooner we get this taken care of, the sooner I can finish up my work for my other four classes. I've got to be done, 'cause it's my Nana's birthday this weekend and I absolutely promised I'd be there. She's gonna be eighty-six."

"That's... an impressive age," Buffy complimented hesitantly and then sighed. She glanced at Sam and he gave her an apologetic grin. Perhaps things weren't going to work out as easily as they had assumed. At least in regards to scheduling another date. But he felt buoyed that at least Buffy felt as eager as he to get to that next date.

She slowly brightened and he heard the soft sigh that she gave. "So, I guess we'll need to decide which artist we want to pick."

Sam glanced at list that was slowly making it's way from where Clements had started it at the closest group still at the front of the room. "Is there anyone specific that you've got in mind?" he asked of the group in general. "Because I have no problem with research."

"Uh, bad words dude," the other male chuckled, eying Sam with much humor and Sam was about to ask what that was about, but the other woman leaned forward on her seat.

"Yeah, that's like an open invitation for your group to ditch and leave everything on your shoulders," she informed him. Sam glanced at Buffy, who was nodding slowly. "I didn't catch your names, also. Your first names?"

"I'm Sam," Sam offered, reaching out with his hand, shaking with the unknown girl, then the male.

"Andrea," she answered and glanced at Buffy.

"Buffy," the perky blond supplied. "And the first one that makes fun of my name gets a voulge to the head!"

"A what?" the male chuckled, though his eyes were wide. He glanced between the group. The differences were split as Andrea remained wide eyed and Sam was chuckling. "I'm Mason, by the way.

"Hey," Sam grinned by way of greeting. He glanced at Buffy, who didn't seem inclined to explain herself.

"I'm almost tempted to make fun, just so I can see what a voulge is," Andrea finally laughed, staring at Buffy with interest in her eyes, leaning forward in her seat again. "I'm assuming it's some kind of a weapon?"

"Yeah," Buffy noted slowly. "A voulge. It's like a glaive?" There were uninformed looks from the newcomers, though Sam nodded. "A type of pole arm?" she expanded. When understanding dawned and the others began to nod, she allowed herself a grin. "Sorry, it's just that our school took any mention of weapons seriously. So my friends and I took an afternoon and looked up the names of medieval weaponry. Faculty never caught on. Well, aside from the librarian. But he's the one who showed us where the books were. Never got in trouble for that though, so it worked. Sort of."

"Cool," Mason chuckled. He gave a shrug of his shoulders. "Nice system, huh?"

"A little more imaginative than anything I ever heard of in school," Sam agreed. "My dad was more of a gun guy, but my brother likes blades." He wondered momentarily if he had said too much, but Andrea and Mason showed interest, as it seemed that Andrea's younger brother had an Asian made weapons collection that he prized and went on at great lengths about. And Mason liked martial arts movies, along with other violent shows.

"Hey, how did we get talking about weapons during art class?" Andrea wondered with a shake of her head.

"Please," Buffy scoffed. "Have you looked at the etchings that crafters put on those blades or in the handles? Definitely art."

"Way to rationalize it," Mason complimented and Sam stiffened slightly. While Andrea was a pretty dark haired girl, Buffy kind of outshone her. At least in his opinion. And there was definitely a hint of interested vibes coming from this Mason. He shifted closer to Buffy, though there was an armrest between them, without thought. But Buffy didn't seem to notice, or protest.

"Well, we should still discuss our project at some point," Buffy sighed, gesturing with her finger over Mason's shoulder. The male turned to see the one of the group below them, holding the sign up sheet out.

"I was gonna suggest my friend that's an artist," Andrea noted. "But I think that they actually have to have created something. And Jim's beer pyramid probably doesn't count."

There was laughter and a little discussion as they looked over the names that were left. Finally, with the rest of the class needing to sign up before the class was dismissed and none of them really caring who it was they researched and wrote about, they left it to luck and Buffy's finger. Closing her eyes Buffy let her finger fall on the paper. "How's that?" she asked, leaning back so that the others could lean in and see the name chosen.

"Works for me," Mason nodded before glancing around. It was unanimous, because any of the names listed on the paper would have needed the same amount of research.

"Okay," Andrea nodded as she wrote the name out in one of her notebooks. "So we're on for coffee right after class? We can divvy up the responsibilities and decide how we want to write it all out?"

"We probably better," Sam sighed. So much for getting Buffy to himself right away, but she looked fairly nonplussed, so maybe getting coffee wasn't exactly what she wanted to talk to him about.

"Where we planning on going?" Mason asked as he watched Buffy write their names in the line provided before she passed the sheet back. "Campus coffee house?"

"Don't worry," Buffy told him, shaking her head. "I've got it covered. Everyone ready? Class'll be dismissed in a few minutes."

Trusting her judgment, Sam leaned over to shove his notebook into his book bag, noting that the other three were doing the same. But suddenly, a flash of bright blue caught his eye and he saw the paper in Buffy's hand that was stretched out towards him. He cautiously took the paper from her and read the information quickly. He had seen some students around campus posting these flyer's in the last day or so.

She was interested in a party at the Kappa house? Sam wasn't sure that it was his brand of entertainment, but when he caught sight of the promise of a dj, all he could think of then was the chance to have Buffy in his arms in a totally socially acceptable manner. He threw her a grin and a nod and was pleased to see her eyes light up as he folded the piece of paper over and with her unspoken permission, tucked it into his bag as well.

"Well, I'm all set," he announced, righting himself just as Clements dismissed the class.

"Me too," Buffy agreed as she stood and held her hand out to Sam. He took it, conscious of Mason's eyes on them. Sam was fully expecting her to let go once he was upright, but she simply turned to pull him along behind her down the row of chairs out to the aisle. "Follow us guys."

Sam was sure that the glow of masculine pride would blind even the dimmest suitor in that room in that moment.

Follow _us_!


	11. Coffee And Kirchner

**Title: Approaching Normal**

Chapter Title: Coffee And Kirchner

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to BtVS or Supernatural. They are owned respectively by Whedon & Mutant Enemy and by Eric Kripke. No infringement is intended. This fiction is intended for private enjoyment only.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Crossover

Type: Friendship/ Romance

Pairing: Buffy/ Sam Winchester

Summary: At last they got the chance at a normal life that they thought they always wanted.

Spoilers/ Time line: Season 5 of Buffy (of sorts) and Pre Series for Supernatural.

Feedback: Always welcome!

Distribution: Ask first please.

A/N: This is written for the Jess? Who's Jess? challenge from the Twisting The Hellmouth site.

Chapter Eleven

Coffee And Kirchner

"Cool," Andrea breathed as she shed her bag and hat before sinking down into the slightly saggy couch in the center of the coffee house cafe that Buffy had brought them to. It was just off campus and very obvious to Sam that as much as it was new to him, it was as well to the others. "How did I not know this was here," she chuckled.

"Maybe it had something to do with the fact that it was down a dark alley that I wouldn't walk down on a good day," Mason teased. He glanced around before skirting the coffee table that had several magazines fanned out across it.

"It is a well hidden secret of Palo Alto," Buffy agreed as she took a seat across from Andrea. Sam was swift enough, having been right beside or behind her the entire walk over, to take the seat next to her. Buffy seemed happy enough with that arrangement and sank back into the sofa as Sam carefully removed the assignment sheet and a notebook and pen from his backpack before stowing it under the table. Wouldn't do for the waitress or waiter to trip over it. "But so worth it," she added. "Their sandwiches are huge and cheap."

"Sounds perfect for a college kid's budget," Sam agreed with a grin as he glanced down at her. It still surprised him sometimes just how tiny she was next to him. But it didn't seem to bother her at all. He glanced at his watch. "Speaking of which..." he frowned slightly. It was getting close to lunch.

"Man, I could go for something to eat," Mason nodded and glanced around from his seat for a member of the wait staff. There was one approaching and she was smiling widely.

"Hey Buffy," she greeted. "I see you're bringing in some more customers."

"Well, my mom always taught me to support the local businesses and your guys' food speaks for itself," Buffy smiled up at the girl, whose name tag proclaimed her as Linda.

"Always good to hear," Linda nodded. "Your usual today?" she wondered. Buffy grinned as she gestured her agreement and then Linda glanced around at the rest. "Can I get anyone a menu?" All three of the remaining young adults hands went up and with a chuckle, pulled several sheets of paper from her tray and handed them around. "Our special today is the Full Load," she explained and Sam saw that it wasn't listed on the sheet that he could see. "That's one half of a club sandwich and a cup of loaded baked potato soup for four dollars and ninety five cents. And our soup of the day is clam chowder." She paused for a moment and jotted something on her order pad. "Can I start anyone with a drink?"

"I'll get a coffee," Andrea began, "half and half with a shot of vanilla please." Linda nodded and wrote, turning to Mason as she did. He put in his coffee order and then Sam ordered his. Linda nodded, promising to be right back with those and to take their orders. Sam, deciding that the special sounded good, offered his menu to Buffy. She smirked as she waved it away.

"I have that thing memorized," she chuckled.

"You really come here that much?" Andrea scoffed slightly and Buffy shrugged one shoulder as she inclined her head.

"Since I eat for free, yeah," Buffy grinned. She turned to Sam and added, "guess that's what happens when you save the owner from getting threatened by the neighborhood bully."

"Seriously?" Sam gaped a moment. It was kind of hard to think, to switch gears from all the supernatural baddies that he had dealt with to think of all these other law breakers out in the world.

"I told you," Mason chuckled, shaking his head. "That alley just screams bad element."

"Kinda does," Buffy agreed. "But I guess the community is making the effort to get it cleaned up. Just sort of takes a lot of work, since everybody has to be on board with what they wanto to accomplish, how and when. And sometimes to come up with the money to do it," she added with a slight wince.

Andrea was nodding and brought up a similar situation that her parents, members of their neighborhood watch, had gone through. Sam didn't have much to contribute to the conversation, but at least he noted, that Mason didn't seem to either. Linda returned with their coffee orders, settling them down easily on the coffee table and took their meal orders. Four specials all around to make it easy on everyone.

At that point Sam hauled out the notebook again. "So," he began, not particularly wanting to have to spend a lot of time on figuring this out. It was kind of nice to spend time like this with people that could be friends and he wanted to get the work out of the way. "It looks like the professor wants us to present an overview of the artist we've chosen and explain to the class why the artist's works are relevant to the material we're studying, what our impressions are of it."

"That sounds simple enough," Andrea noted as she cupped her hands around her large coffee mug.

"Good jumping off point would probably be to familiarize ourselves with the artists' works," Buffy added. She glanced around at the others. "Of course, figuring out who is going to do what, would help too."

"Well, I've got class in just over an hour," Mason noted. "And I'd like to get as much done as we can before I leave."

"And I've got class this afternoon too," Andrea added. Sam nodded.

"Okay," Buffy nodded, "looks like I'm library bound then. My class was canceled this afternoon."

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Mason wondered, before Sam could ask. Buffy shook her head.

"I'm pretty comfortable in libraries," she chuckled. "Maybe I can do the initial re con on Kirchner here," she glanced at the paper in Sam's hand. "Take out enough books that we can all have a look, see if there are some bios on the guy."

"There should be," Sam nodded. "I've heard his name in passing before. Don't recall exactly where," he added with a slight frown.

"Okay," Buffy nodded. "So I'll get the supplies and when and where do we want to meet to go over it?"

"Well, I'm meeting my room mate for dinner tonight," Andrea shrugged. "But I'm free after. Or tomorrow night."

"Eh," Buffy winced quickly, but it was gone as soon as Sam noted it. "Got plans tomorrow night," she explained without really explaining. He stayed quiet, unsure if sharing what the plans were, if she meant the party at Kappa house, with him.

"Tonight would be better for me," Mason added. "Maybe we can hit the library again after supper. Maybe seven?" he suggested hesitantly.

"Seven works for me," Sam agreed. Andrea and Buffy were quick to agree. Relieved that that was settled, they turned to discussing how to break up the work and what would be fair to all of them. And then the discussion was broken off when Linda returned with their meals. And the other three agreed, Buffy was right. Best sandwiches in the city. Sam especially liked the homemade feel and taste of it all and in that moment, wouldn't want to be anywhere else. The glow in her eyes told Sam that maybe it was the same for Buffy as it was for him.

AN~AN~AN

"So," Sam hedged, as he crumpled his napkin and let it fall into the bowl that had held his soup. Andrea and Mason had already paid for their portions and had left, in a hurry to get to their respective classes. The meal had been good and he was pleasantly sated. "You're heading to the library now, then?" he asked with a grimace he tried to hide. He was a little upset that he was wussing out. For crying out loud, he had already asked her out once. They'd had ice cream and had come here, even if the moment had been interrupted by their classmates. He drew in a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare himself to broach the subject that he really wanted to touch on.

"Yep," Buffy smiled as she stood and carefully adjusted the seam of her pants. "It'll stave off the boredom of the afternoon a little." She made a small movement with her shoulders and then smiled down at him. "It's too bad you've got class. I wouldn't have minded some company."

"Oh," Sam's worry receded and he grinned up at her. "Well, not right away." He glanced down at his watch once more. "My next class doesn't start for over an hour."

"So...?" Buffy drawled and glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "Up to keeping a nose to the grindstone college girl company while she does the preliminary work?"

"I'll give you one better," Sam chuckled as he stood and reached for her hand once more. "How about I walk you over there and even help you start the research. I can't promise that I'll find tons, since I might end up a little distracted, but at the very least, I can reach the really high shelves."

"Oh, I'm tempted to be upset about the short shot, but curious about what you possibly have to be distracted by," Buffy smirked squeezing his fingers a little, though she didn't pull away. Sam had left money to cover his bill and Linda had waved away Buffy's offer to pay. She did leave a nice tip though.

"Well," Sam informed her as they made their way out of the cafe, "there is that little matter of that flyer that you handed me earlier. Just wondering about oh, a few details."

"Details like?" Buffy wondered as her free hand dipped into her bag to retrieve her sunglasses.

"Well," Sam huffed, "like what one wears to a college party when they've never gone before? How much would one eat, if there's most likely going to be alcohol there? Will there be snacks? What kind of music is going to be playing? And most of all..." he winced.

"Most of all what?" Buffy wanted to know, staring up at him. She seemed enthralled with the picture he was trying to paint.

"Well, how a girl might feel if a guy invited her to a party that was specifically advertised to have a deejay and dancing, but the guy wasn't really... confidant, shall we say? Lacking confidence in rusty, not been used since junior high, dancing skills, or lack thereof."

"Oh," Buffy intoned and nodded importantly. "Well, I'd like to think that if said girl was interested enough to go to a party were there were all those things, drinking, dancing, music, possibly some snackage, that sacrificing a little dancing for the chance to spend time with the guy would be totally possible."

"Good to know," Sam remarked, feeling warmer. "So, Buffy?"

"Yeah Sam?"

"Would you like to go to the Kappa party tomorrow night?" he asked quickly. He knew very well what all this round about conversation was. But it still felt right to actually ask. Just so there was no miscommunication between them. "With me?" he tacked on, just in case... but it must have been apparent the way she giggled.

"I probably wouldn't want to otherwise," she nodded. "Sure. Though I am now determined to get you on the dance floor at some point in the evening. Fair warning here."

"Noted," Sam agreed. "Maybe we can negotiate further terms after we're hear what the deejay thinks is dance worthy," he suggested with a glimmer of a smile.

"I'll hold you to that," Buffy assured him and they continued on.

They continued to chatter about various unimportant things as they made their way to the campus library. Sam couldn't hold back his smile when Buffy, holding his hand once more, like it was the most natural thing in the world, moved directly to the card catalog. He felt her fingers flex and loosened his own grip, feeling the loss of warmth immediately.

Surprisingly, though he wasn't sure why that was, Buffy easily and quickly found the information that she was looking for. She murmured just briefly to herself as she reached for the small basket of scrap paper and pencils.

"Let's see," she murmured. "Kirchner, Ernst Ludwig," she pronounced carefully. "Six books, oh, paintings and exhibition inclusions. Picture books. That's good. Biography, yes!"

"They've got a biography?" Sam grinned. That would make information gathering much easier. Buffy finished writing down the sections, authors and Dewey decimal point system they were located under. Her handwriting was a little scratchy and scribbled, but Sam could easily read it. She pushed the long drawer shut and turned to him.

"Yup," she nodded. "Shall we look and see if it's still in?"

"Lead the way," Sam invited. He was interested to see how well she knew her way around this library. Given she had used to hang out in one in high school and had been attending Stanford for over a year now, she had to have spent some time there. And if he was honest with himself, it was very nice having someone that felt as at home in one as he did himself.

They were quiet, as there were many other students and employees at work. Luckily, all of the books that they needed were present and Sam offered to carry the books to the nearest unoccupied table to pour over. The pictorial of Kirchner's works was a large coffee table edition. Buffy happily piled them up in his arms and then led him to a table in one of the alcoves. Sam gratefully settled his load on the table and checked his watch. He still had half an hour before his next class started.

"How long?" Buffy asked quietly.

"I'm going to need to leave in about eh, fifteen minutes," Sam hedged. It would take him that long to walk to the building that housed the auditorium style classroom. He knew that already from having worked in the library between art class and the next. He saw that Buffy was leafing through what looked like the expressionism period type of art.

"Well then," she smiled, "I'd better get cracking on gathering this info. Maybe I can even figure out a fair way to divvy up the research and report."

"That'd be nice," Sam agreed as he took a seat adjacent to her and pulled the biography towards himself. It wasn't dedicated solely to Kirchner, but the group of painters of his era. That was good, it would point them in the correct direction. "You know," he sighed and noted that Buffy glanced up from the book immediately, "I was um... as nice as it was to have lunch with Andrea and Mason..."

" It also would have been nice for them not to horn in on coffee?" she finished for him and then chuckled when he nodded sheepishly. "Well," she grinned, "look at it this way. We thought we were going to have coffee, but we had lunch instead, so that means..." she left the words hanging and it was Sam's turn to chuckle.

"That I still owe you coffee," he whispered happily, leaning in just slightly.

"Well I thought I owed you coffee," Buffy smirked. "Since you paid for the ice cream. Oh well, I guess we can buy each other's coffee. Or..."

"Or what?" Sam mimicked her expression.

"Or I could buy you coffee and then another time, you could buy me coffee," she offered, a little hesitatingly. "I mean, I don't know about you, but I love a good cup of coffee."

"Coffee is always good," Sam agreed, watching her eyes. They were dancing with excitement and he really hoped that he wasn't reading this wrong as he leaned in imperceptibly and saw that it was now Buffy mimicking him. Her tongue darted out slightly, moistening her lower lip and Sam felt the surge and tightening in his stomach and lower. He was going to kiss Buffy Summers and she was looking forward to it as much as he wanted to, at least according to his basest instincts.

Or at least he would have, had someone not slammed a book shut, startling them both with the intensity of the noise not so far away. Buffy blushed instantly and ducked her chin down and Sam wanted to curse. Not out loud of course, she was obviously unsure about something.

"And everybody thinks libraries so quiet and peaceful," she chuckled suddenly as she shook her head.

"True," Sam nodded, then cleared his throat, noting that his voice was husky. "I wonder what gives everybody that idea. I find them very... exciting."

"Oh?" Buffy grinned. "All that knowledge, right there at your fingertips?" she teased and Sam noted that she hadn't leaned back in her seat.

"You'd be surprised what you can learn... in a library," he grunted and then laughed quietly. He still wanted that kiss, but he had the feeling that the wait would be very worth it and if she wasn't one hundred percent comfortable, then he was not going to push. "And that's about the extent of wit and wisdom that I have time to drop."

"Oh," she pouted, which amused and touched Sam. "You really have to go?"

"I do," he sighed. "Unless I have a good excuse to skip..."

"No, no, I guess you're right," Buffy nodded and looked back down to the page that she had flipped open to. "I'll see you tonight though, right? Back here?"

"Or maybe in the cafeteria," he suggested with a small grin. "Have to eat again at some point right?"

"Definitely," she agreed quickly. "Maybe if we catch each other there, we can walk over later."

"That'd be great," Sam nodded. "You can protect me from big bad Dracula man out there." He wasn't sure why he had mentioned it, teased with it, but it seemed to shake Buffy up a little as she blinked in confusion and then nodded slowly.

"Right. Dracula," she frowned. "Well, I shouldn't keep you. Have a good class."

"Yeah," Sam nodded slowly, wondering why he had brought it up. Wondering why it bothered her. Maybe something in her past... Maybe if he shut up now and didn't press, because he really did need to get to class and if he pushed, she probably wouldn't react well. He reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. "I'll see you tonight."

And then the warmth was back in her smile and her eyes and he was relieved. "See you Sam," she breamed up at him. And then he pushed away from the table, back pack slung over his shoulder.

Tonight couldn't come soon enough.


	12. Temperamental Discourse

**Title: Approaching Normal**

Chapter Title: Temperamental Discourse

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to BtVS or Supernatural. They are owned respectively by Whedon & Mutant Enemy and by Eric Kripke. No infringement is intended. This fiction is intended for private enjoyment only.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Crossover

Type: Friendship/ Romance

Pairing: Buffy/ Sam Winchester

Summary: At last they got the chance at a normal life that they thought they always wanted.

Spoilers/ Time line: Season 5 of Buffy (of sorts) and Pre Series for Supernatural.

Feedback: Always welcome!

Distribution: Ask first please.

A/N: This is written for the Jess? Who's Jess? challenge from the Twisting The Hellmouth site.

Chapter Twelve

Temperamental Discourse

Buffy made her way down the supper line, critically eying the offerings before the student populace this evening. It actually looked fairly edible for once and deciding quickly, gestured to the chicken and rice dish. She received her plate and moved down to add some salad to her plate.

She had had a fairly quiet afternoon in the library after Sam had left. But instead of finding it calming, her mood was less calm. She had been sure that had that idiot been treating books the way they were supposed to, nicely, without slamming it and making with the big echoing banging noise, well then, she could have had Sam kisses. She could admit to herself that she'd been wanting smoochies from this guy for a little while now. After spending an hour in a sauna with him, he behaving like a perfect gentleman, how could she not? Falling asleep to thoughts of that toned, long, lean body on many a night was definitely leading to thoughts of the inappropriately naughty type.

But Sam had seemed shy and that morning, seeing how his face had lit up when they'd sat together in class, Buffy wondered if he just needed a nudge or two. She was a fairly modern woman, but in cases like these, she didn't want to be too pushy. Look where that had gotten her with Angel. Or, even worse, with Parker the jerk. But Sam wasn't just your every day ordinary guy either. He was funny, witty without being hurtful. He was quiet without being broody. He could go out in the sunlight, looked really good in the sunlight. But he was comfortable in the dark places too. Like that alley when Dracula had found her. And in the library.

She had shown him that flyer for the party at the Kappa house and his smile had grown. When she had taken his hand, a hint if there ever was one, it had felt so right that she hadn't wanted to let go and when they had taken a few steps down the aisle between the seats and then he hadn't let go either, Buffy was sure that he was finally getting the idea. Or maybe he'd had the idea and now she was giving him a green light. Oh boy did she want to give him a green light. Go, no stops, full speed ahead!

And once he'd gotten that first indication to go, he wasn't speeding, but he wasn't reversing at all. A nice steady pace and Buffy supposed that was all right too. After all, they couldn't just jump into being together. And it was nice, being in that space where everything was still new and exciting. She liked that. But she also liked the being so comfortable with one another that you could finish the others thoughts and share things about yourself that no one else could ever know. She wondered, with a small frown as she chose a seat at random, where no one else was at the moment, if she could ever really get there with Sam.

She had with Angel, but he being a vampire, kind of gave him the insight into her being the Slayer. It wasn't something that was going to go away, apparently, even if she had left it for a while. But Scott Hope, Parker Abrams, all of the guys that she had met so far in life since becoming the Slayer told her that it wasn't likely. Maybe Xander's joking suggestion, that she'd only find a guy that could accept her being a Slayer, that the world was larger, older and a little more dangerous than your average thought, would be one of those geeky role playing nerds that already lived in a delusion... she shook her head quickly to clear that thought.

But maybe he was onto something. Maybe finding a guy, she had to start somewhere adjacent to normal and supernatural. Somewhere were she'd hopefully find some normal, but open to the supernatural. She wasn't so full of herself to think that she'd never be able to keep the other part of her life away from someone who could be so important. And if she were honest with herself, she really wanted someone like that to be Sam. But she didn't know him anywhere near well enough to know...

She sighed heavily.

"Those sound like awfully heavy thoughts weighing you down there," she heard from across the table. She glanced up quickly, her lips forming into a smile before she even fully registered who was across from her.

"Sam, hi," she perked up immediately. He was holding a tray with his dinner and before he could say anything else, she gestured to the table. "You're welcome to join, if only to chase the deep thoughts away."

His answering grin as he leaned over to set his tray down warmed her right to the core. "I guess it depends on where the heavy thoughts came from," he offered as he pulled the chair out and settled into it. He slid his backpack under the table before straightening up to scoot his chair in. "Nothing bad, I hope," he offered with a hopeful tone as he tilted his head a little.

Buffy quickly shook her head. "Old dilemma," she explained without explaining a thing. "Actually, I was just thinking over next semester's courses."

"Oh?" he asked easily as he broke apart a roll and began to butter it. "Is there a conflict?"

"Maybe," she shrugged one shoulder and went back to picking out bites of her salad. "I'm not as interested in the drama course that Willow wanted me to take. She's always been shy, stage fright, you know," she added though of course, not knowing Willow, he wouldn't. But it was a universal ailment that everyone understood.

"That's not uncommon," Sam nodded, giving appropriate weight to the topic, looking thoughtful. "I suppose she took the course so that she could try and get over that?"

Buffy nodded. "And her girlfriend Tara," she kept one eye on him as she announced that, but there wasn't even the slightest flicker from him and she smiled to herself, "was supposed to take it with her, but she couldn't fit it in with her schedule."

"Well, it's not like it would be the same course," Sam noted, "in two different schools with two different teachers."

"Yeah," Buffy agreed. "I think she just wanted someone to talk to about it that was going through the same sort of thing. But if I learned anything from my high school play, I am not cut out to be an actor. Or a public speaker."

"You were in a play in high school?" Sam chuckled.

"You weren't?" she countered, flushing slightly. Sam shook his head in the negative.

"Never had the chance," he grunted with a frown. "What were you in?"

"Oh, it wasn't actually a play," Buffy shook her head. "It was the talent show and our Principal decided that certain people, troubled youth," she hinted heavily, "needed to make a mandatory appearance doing something. And since Xander, Wills and I aren't all that talented, in a way acceptable to a school related, public event, we decided to do a recital of Pygmalion."

"Really?" Sam's grin slowly grew into a very amused smile. "How bad was it?"

"Willow ran off the stage and threw up," Buffy smirked back. "Otherwise, stilted, uncomfortable and I never forgave that toady rat for making us miserable." Sam laughed, like he couldn't help himself.

"A toady rat?" he repeated. "How does someone manage to be a toad and a rat at the same time?"

"It's all in the eyes," she assured him with a slight cackle. "He was about my height, balding and slimy, but his eyes? Those beady little eyes and he had a slight twitch."

"Okay, I can see that," Sam nodded, still chuckling. After the merriment calmed, he looked thoughtful before asking, "so if you don't take the drama course, are you going to just leave your time free or find something else?"

"Well," Buffy sighed and then realized that she sort of had a chance to start feeling Sam out on some other things that had just been preying on her mind. "I did have something in mind. I'm not sure how popular the class would be, but if I look into it now, I might be able to switch."

"What's that?" Sam encouraged quickly.

"There's a myths and legends of the old world class that sounds like it would be interesting," she offered hesitantly.

"Myths and legends?" Sam repeated slowly and Buffy felt like there was a band of apprehension tightening across her middle. She nodded.

"Well, remember," she prompted quietly, "we ran into that role player? I mean, yes, obviously you remember. But with my psychology classes, I got really interested in the mind set. Why would someone want to live in that world. And it also got me thinking, where do these dark images come from. Vampires, werewolves, zombies. Because obviously it's not all internal," she shrugged. She wasn't able to tell Sam the truth, about her, but there was truth in her words too, as they pertained to the non-supernatural populace of the world. "There's the cultures that we live in, but it's not just Americans. Each culture has their legends and variations on some pretty basic themes."

"You're right about that," Sam nodded, seemingly over his hesitation. "That does sound interesting."

"Yeah?" Buffy smiled shyly. She felt relieved, of course she did. But if Sam knew really, he wouldn't look so amused, would he? She poked at a piece of chicken with her fork and shrugged. "I tried to introduce the topic, sort of, in my world history class, but got shut down pretty fast."

"Really?" Sam perked up a little. "What were you talking about?"

"Rasputin," she answered succinctly. "We were talking about all the repeated assassination attempts on him and I brought up the possibility that there was something else going on there, but of course, ol' stick in the mud professor wanted us to just stick to the facts," she grumbled. "I mean, we weren't there, how did we have all the 'facts'?" she held up her fingers to make air quotes.

"Well what do you think it was?" Sam asked curiously, leaning a little closer, his dinner apparently forgotten.

"No clue," she chuckled. "buy you have to agree that repeated poisonings, stabbings and drowning before he finally died? Mighty strange."

"Strange yes, but that doesn't naturally lend itself to it being a supernatural reason behind it, does it?" Sam wondered, his eyebrows drawing together.

"No, you're right and I wasn't trying to say it was," Buffy defended herself. "Just introduce the possibility that there were facts that we didn't know and that accepted points of view on this weren't correct just because they'd been spouted so long that they are now accepted as fact instead of still a theory."

"Oh, now I can totally get on board with that," Sam nodded, looking very interested again. "Logical rational thinking and all that."

"Oh, so you like thinking in the box?" she teased a little.

"Oh there's no box," he laughed back. "There's always a reason for everything. Even if you can't see it. And it's not always the reason people think that it is. But I think you're right, that people have been saying things over and over and accepting it as the truth because there's no other explanation available to them. I mean, science is only really starting to explode now and give us the rational explanation for things that people felt instinctively was true, based on nothing much more than feelings and their own observations."

"Like the earth being round instead of flat," Buffy offered an old argument and even though they weren't in exactly the same place, it was kind of fun discussing this with Sam. Maybe because he hadn't just shut her down.

"Or Vampires that don't exist as creatures of the dark, but are victims of a blood disorder," he provided helpfully. Buffy nodded. That was something that she had learned about in the course of having Giles on one of his spiels in high school.

"Exactly," she nodded. And then blushed when she realized how loud she had been. "Sorry, it's just... a fascinating topic."

"It definitely is," Sam agreed quietly, his eyes intent on hers and Buffy felt herself melting a little. After a moment, he cleared his throat and looked down at his plate. "So, it sounds like switching to this myths and legends course would be an interesting parallel with your psychology courses."

"I really think it would," Buffy agreed happily. And now she seriously was thinking of switching. "Of course, since I didn't take it last year, it would be a beginners course."

"It is?" Sam looked interested and almost, dare she say it, hopeful again. She nodded.

"I think I'll speak to my guidance officer on Monday about switching classes then," she decided. "That way there'll be plenty of time to arrange it. So how about you, are you happy with next semester's offerings?"

"Pretty happy, yeah," Sam nodded. I got everything I wanted and plenty of time to get the material accomplished, the reading, the homework and reports."

"That's always good," she noted. "And I hope you left room to relax too."

"That's what weekends are for, right?" Sam chuckled. "Oh, speaking of which, there's another meeting of the fencing club tomorrow night. I just saw them putting up the flyers earlier."

"Oh, good to know," Buffy grinned and set her fork down. "I should probably write that in my planner so I don't forget." She turned to reach for her bag, intending on doing so immediately. She didn't want to forgo a chance of seeing Sam getting all... sweaty. But as she reached for the opening of her bag, she heard the definitive tone of her cell phone. "Huh," she harrumphed, recognizing the tone set to her mother's house phone. "Sorry," she apologized, grabbing up the phone. "I should probably answer that."

"No problem," Sam grinned back and directed his attention to his dinner.

"Hello?" Buffy asked, fully expecting to hear her mother or Dawn's voice greeting her back. To her surprise, it was Xander.

"Buff? We got problems," he swung right into it and Buffy frowned.

"What kind of problems?" she asked. "Is everything all right? Where's Mom and Dawn?"

"Well, your mom needed me to babysit tonight," Xander explained quickly, sounding upset and Buffy let a small grin loose.

"Oh, I bet Dawn loved that," she smirked, fully aware of her sister's crush on her friend.

"Yeah," Xander grunted. "We were all having a merry time until a brick came crashing through the living room window."

"Ooh," Buffy groaned. "Don't freak too much. Mom will understand. Do you know who threw it?" She eyed Sam, who she noted, was attempting to listen, but trying to appear not to.

"It was Harmony," Xander sighed. "And her gang."

"Harmony?" she repeated slowly. Why was this a surprise? Harmony threw a brick through her mother's window. She couldn't help it as she startled to giggle. "Harmony? She has... a gang?" The laughter swelled and even Sam seemed affected as he smirked at her.

"Well, maybe one of her minions," Xander grunted.

"Harmony has minions?" she shrieked softly and put her free hand over her eyes as her shoulders continued to shake with her mirth. "She came to my house with minions?"

"Yeah, she wanted to call you out," Xander sighed. That just caused the paroxysm of laughter to bubble up out of her throat.

"Oh my God!" she cackled. "That half wit! I'm not even there. She came to... oh! Oh!" she gasped and covered the phone with her hand and glanced at Sam. "really really stupid girl from high school that we used to feud with. She's just... is it possible for people to grow stupider with age? Because really, she did." She couldn't tell Sam of course, that Harmony was a vampire, but still, it was rude to not explain something.

"My brother comes to mind," Sam grunted and then chuckled before shaking his head.

Buffy took several more calming breaths. "Okay, so aside from the window, how is this bad?" she wanted to know. They'd dealt with Harmony before. She was so pathetic, Buffy was pretty sure that she'd end up staking herself, or annoy another Vampire into it and then, well... problem solved.

"Well, um Dawn, totally by accident Buffy, you have to know that," Xander hemmed and hawed and Buffy grew still.

"What did Dawn do?" she asked with laser precision cutting each word out of her mouth.

"She um, she sort of told Harmony to come in and prove herself," Xander winced. She could hear it over the phone line.

"That little idiot!" she exploded, her hand slamming down on the table. Sam was startled, as were several other people, but Buffy could not be worried about them at the moment. Her sister had just, she'd been informed, very stupidly invited a Vampire into the house. It didn't matter how dimwitted Harmony was. She was still a Vampire and stronger than the others. She could only hope that there was a dusty end to this story, but she doubted there was. "Did you call Faith?" She demanded.

"As soon as we got Harmony out of the house," Xander assured her. "She came and chased them off and we called Willow to do the de-invitation spell. She's on her way."

Buffy calmed a little. At least they were thinking the right way. "Okay, good."

"But Buff," Xander grunted and Buffy felt the bottom of her stomach drop out.

"What?" she asked slowly, raising worried eyes that met equally worried eyes from Sam who had abandoned any pretense of eating or politely ignoring her call.

"Um, Faith was kind of yelling at Dawn for being so stupid and she got upset and ran off," Xander hurried to get what surely had to be the worst news. "Anya tried to stop her, but they were waiting in the back yard. Ahn was hurt."

"Oh God," Buffy gasped. "How bad?"

"Concussion," he friend answered and Buffy gulped, she felt something touch her hand and was startled until she realized that Sam had moved around the table to crouch next to her. She grabbed his hand and he threaded his fingers with her as his hand came up to support her back. "And her arm. We're waiting for the ambulance. Faith went after Dawn. But she was too late. One of Harmony's goons grabbed her. I'm sorry Buffy. Really."

"No," she whispered as fear surged through her. "No, I know," she murmured. "I'll be there as soon as I can," she decided. She heard her friend murmuring as she hung up the phone. It dropped from her suddenly lifeless hand, clattering on the table.

"Buffy?" Sam questioned softly from beside her and she turned a little. He was just a blurry figure before her tear filled eyes. How could this have happened?

"They took her," she managed to get out. "Some guy took my sister, Sam," she choked out and then collapsed in his arms.


End file.
